


Neverending Summer (Notes From Argus)

by complexhero



Series: Broke Open Love [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Meet the Family, Recovery, alpha!Qrow, omega!Clover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 51,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23355400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/complexhero/pseuds/complexhero
Summary: After escaping Atlas, Clover and Qrow take a well-deserved break. But, happily ever afters are not easily won. For Clover, idleness in peace is just as challenging as idleness in war, especially when one's family is involved. And for Qrow, every day he falls deeper is just another domino stacked against his heart. Every perfect kiss or touch is a tile placed, the potential energy poised to ruin them both. Day by day, they both find ways to deal with the past and prepare for the future.A series of vignettes, from the Ebi-Su house in Argus.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi, past Clover Ebi/James Ironwood, past Clover Ebi/others
Series: Broke Open Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679821
Comments: 170
Kudos: 99





	1. The Ebi-Su house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clover says yes. Qrow says no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw shit, back at it again almost as soon as I said I would take a break. What can I say, this is my new hobby. Sorry Tom Nook.
> 
> If you haven't read (Breaking Like) The Heart That's Stuck Inside My Skin, much of this will not make sense. This picks up almost immediately after that fic, So give that one a shot, if it seems like something you would like!

_Hey Firecracker,_

_I don’t know how secure these are, but Ice Queen seems to think it’ll be all right. I don’t wanna get anyone in trouble though, so I’ll keep it short. I just wanted to let you all know that we made it ok, and that you were right. Don’t get used to it. Tell your sister I said hi._

_-The Luckiest Guy in Remnant_

_P.S. I love you both_

_P.P.S. These people are all insane._

* * *

It took Qrow all of three days to realize that the Ebi-Su household was completely unhinged.

When they’d first arrived, everyone had been too tired to say much of anything. On the trip back to Argus, Clover had that kind of frantic exhaustion that he got, such that he spent most of the ride dozing with his head pillowed on Qrow’s lap, while Qrow carded his hands through the omega’s hair. That state was…almost _entirely_ Qrow’s fault, and he was glad to keep a guilty watch even though he himself was tired. When they got to Argus, Clover had barely kept his eyes open long enough to introduce Qrow to his family, and then Cedar’s wife Val–who was comically pregnant–was escorting them to a back bedroom, where they both slept like the dead.

He probably shouldn’t have been so…enthusiastic, that night before they left.

The second day, the adults had work and the kids had school. Cedar dropped Bianca and Rafe off on his way to the base, and Qrow and Clover volunteered to pick them up so Faye could take a mission and Val could get affairs in order before her maternity leave. They had a lazy morning to themselves–fooling around a little, since the house was empty–and then a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon with Bianca and Rafe, who clearly adored Clover. In the evening, all the adults talked amicably about their days, then Cedar put the kids down and Val went to bed and he and Clover had stayed up talking shop with Faye, who was a Huntress in Vacuo. It was one of the most refreshingly mature nights Qrow had spent in the last year, ever since he’d started hanging around a bunch of teenagers all the time.

The third day, though, was a Saturday, and that’s where everything went to shit. The polite, dinner party atmosphere was gone. The house was big, apparently the one Cedar and Faye had grown up in, but the reality of the situation was that there were two children and five adults, one of whom was eight months pregnant, all sharing the same space. It was similar and yet completely different to the chaos of his nieces and their friends, where Qrow was accustomed to being the sole adult authority.

No, here every Ebi was used to getting their own way, in the individual lives they’d built for themselves. Being thrown back together was causing a sort of childhood regression. And they were all in each other’s business, all the time. Everyone had cute little nicknames for everyone else, which they mostly used to completely undermine each other. The hierarchy seemed to start with Faye, the eldest. Then Cedar, then Clover, the baby. The wildcard was Valerie Su, who had a kind of chaotic yet highly competent energy that had every single one of them cowed. He…liked her a lot, actually. She reminded him of a cross between Summer and Raven, on Raven’s better days. But she babied Clover just as much, maybe even _more_ than the other two, and it was clearly grating on him.

The overall mood had so much history and habit built in that it was a bit like when him and Tai got together. Except here there were _four_ Taiyangs.

“Uncle Clover, do you want to play ponies with me?”

Qrow concealed his frown behind his book. Clover had _just_ settled down, having spent the whole morning doing things for everyone _else_. First, he was up at the ass-end of the day, making breakfast for everyone and entertaining the kids so Val and Cedar could “sleep in,” which meant sleeping until 7:30. To Qrow’s horror, all the Ebis had the same ambitious, early-rising attitude, such that it was _Qrow_ who felt like the asshole for yawning at the breakfast table. Then, Clover helped Val _completely_ reorganize the nursery. And as much as Qrow enjoyed watching Clover move furniture, it wasn’t exactly a _relaxing_ activity for the omega. Finally, of _course_ he had to step in to assist Faye, who was supposed to make lunch, once he’d noticed his cousin…Qrow didn’t even know, buttering the bread the wrong way.

It was exhausting just to watch. The man could not sit still, and he was terrible at saying no. Fortunately (ha), Qrow considered himself uniquely suited to tempering both those habits, as he hated doing anything and said no to almost everything.

As much as he wanted Clover’s family to like him, he was not above looking like the clingy boyfriend if it meant the omega would take a fucking break when he needed one. So when Clover _finally_ sat down on the couch with a book, Qrow went too, letting Clover stretch his long legs over Qrow’s lap. The physical contact seemed to calm him down. Currently, Qrow was resting his arms on Clover’s calves, his thumb rubbing small circles into the omega’s ankle. He was supposedly reading as well, but actually he was just waiting for Clover to fall asleep.

Also, the book was boring.

Thankfully, so was Clover’s. _His_ book was propped up on his chest, but it kept dangerously tilting as he nodded off. Qrow was just about to reach over and snag it when little Bianca approached.

Clover woke with a start, at her question. “Hmm? Sorry, Bibi, what was that? I fell asleep for a sec.”

Qrow cursed, internally. Faye, who was fiddling with her weapon in the corner, seemed to be on the same page. “I’ll play ponies with you, Beebs,” she offered, smiling. Qrow sent her a grateful look.

Bianca pouted. “But I want to show Uncle _Clover_.”

Faye’s smile fell. Vacuo was a lot farther away than Atlas. Qrow could relate.

“Hey, kiddo,” Qrow said, “Uncle Clover’s a bit tired right now, but maybe you could tell me and your Aunt about your ponies? Do they have names?”

Neither Ruby nor Yang had gone through a horse girl phase, but Qrow recognized the signs. He felt for Faye, he really did, but she clearly was less practiced around children. It made sense. Cedar and Val seemed like decent, attentive parents. Faye hadn’t had to learn, the way he had.

Bianca’s eyes lit up. She held up the toy that was clutched in her arms. “This one’s Radish. She’s a miniature, so she’s really little but she has pretty hair.”

“Oh, can I see?”

And then they were off. One by one, Bianca brought her toys over to Qrow, lining them up on the arm of the couch and telling him in exacting detail the name, breed, and personality of all of her horses. He snuck a quick glance over to Clover, who was…well, now he was kind of gazing at Qrow with a stupid smile on his face, which wasn’t really the intended effect. Qrow coughed, looking away.

If he _had_ fallen asleep it would have been spoiled, anyway, because at that point Val came blustering into the living room, scroll to her ear, and leaned over Clover.

“Clo, you want me to make you an appointment with Venus? It’s just that I’ve got her on the phone right now and I realized you’re probably due for a visit.”

Clover frowned, looking up. He had to tilt his head a bit to see around her belly. “I’m not taking suppressants anymore, why would I need to see a doctor?”

Ah. Val–or rather, Dr. Su–was a practicing physician in Argus. She tutted at Clover. “When was your last check-up? Did you get one the last time you came?”

Clover scrubbed at his face, thinking. “Probably time before that. Val, thank you but–“

“That was two years ago! And you’ve had a heat since then. Clo, your reproductive health is very important. It’s not just for fertility, they screen for cancer too. You should be getting them every year.”

“Plus,” Faye chimed in from the corner, giving Qrow a significant look before winking at Clover, “They can get you some…” she paused, glancing at Bianca and Rafe, who was contentedly smashing trucks together in the center of the room. “Uh, _B-I-R-T-H C-O-N-T-R-O-L_.”

Bianca looked up from her ponies. “What’s birth control?” she said, directly to Qrow. Qrow turned to Clover. Clover looked up at Val. Val stared at Faye.

“Faye, she’s eight.” Val said. “She can spell.”

Faye turned back to her weapon. Val sighed. To Bianca, she said, “It’s something for grownups, sweetie.” Then to Clover, “Can I make the appointment?”

“Fine,” Clover grumbled. Val gave him a thumbs up, ruffling his hair and turning back to her conversation as she exited. Clover put his book over his face, which was a few shades redder than normal. “I’m taking a nap.”

Qrow gave his leg reassuring rub. Clover let out a little sigh as he readjusted himself, shifting a bit lower so the backs of his knees were across Qrow’s lap. The sound cut straight to Qrow’s heart, causing that terrifying flutter that had haunted him since the escape from Atlas. Love. He loved Clover. He’d _told_ Clover he loved him and yet Clover was still here, letting Qrow touch him. Oh gods, what a disaster.

Soon, Clover’s breathing evened out. _Finally_ , Qrow thought. Only Bianca’s renewed horse talk and the book concealing Clover’s expression kept him from just staring at that perfect face until the sun went down.

“Okay, Mom and Dad will be here in about an hour and–what?”

Cedar froze in the doorway as Qrow and Faye both glared at him. Qrow was sure the man meant well, but he was _loud._ Faye held a finger to her lips. “The baby’s sleeping,” she said in a low voice.

Cedar looked, confused, at his son playing quietly on the floor. Faye rolled her eyes and pointed at Clover. Cedar peered over the back of the couch.

Miraculously, Clover didn’t wake up. He turned slightly in his sleep, nudging his back against the couch cushions, his legs curled around Qrow. The book fell off his face with a soft _thunk_ , landing on the carpet below. Clover only mumbled something indecipherable, burrowing his face into the pillow. He looked so innocent, with his face slack and open like that.

Qrow was absolutely fucked.

“He’ll be fine, he sleeps like the dead.” Cedar said, blessedly lower this time. “Faye, do you have to do that in front of my kids?”

“What? It’s just an axe. It’s not like I’m using it right now.” Faye said, shrugging. “This is my job, Ce. We can’t all be pencil-pushers.”

Cedar sputtered, then threw his hands up in surrender. “Fine, just…no demonstrations this time, please. I’m gonna get the grill fired up.”

“Daddy, can I help?” Bianca asked, face lighting up. Qrow reconsidered her. The kid liked fire, eh?

Cedar waffled, as if debating whether preventing his daughter from seeing Aunt Faye sharpen her axe was worth risking a little open flame. “Sweetie, you know fire is too dangerous. Why don’t you…” he looked from Faye, razor sharp weapon in her lap, to Clover, asleep, to Qrow, who had despoiled his younger cousin. “…just, keep playing ponies with Qrow.”

That was a step forward, Qrow supposed. Cedar had assessed his threat level, and rated him somewhere between ‘actively dangerous’ and ‘unconscious.’ It was a good thing he’d left Harbinger in the bedroom.

Cedar ran a hand through his graying hair. “Right. You guys need anything?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Faye said. “Qrow?”

Qrow jerked his gaze from Clover’s sleeping form, where it had drifted again. “What? Uh. I’m…I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure?” Cedar said. “It’s no trouble. You’re probably gonna be stuck there for a bit. Plus, I owe you a drink, anyways.”

Cedar had been… _slowly_ warming up to Qrow. Faye and Val seemed to like him just fine, and of course Clover was always hopping in and playing peacekeeper. But if Qrow were in Cedar’s shoes, he’d probably hate Qrow’s guts, too. He didn’t want to reject the olive branch, but…well.

“Oh, I, uh…I actually don’t drink,” he said. And then, to go ahead and seal his fate lest Clover’s most beloved family members think that he was some kind of virtuous teetotaler, he added, “Anymore.”

Silence.

“I…see.” Cedar said. “For how long…?”

“Almost three months.”

Wrong answer. Cedar’s eyebrows flew up. “And you’ve known Shrimp for…”

“About that long.”

Cedar looked to Faye, as if to vindicate himself for his behavior. Faye rolled her eyes. “Don’t ride his ass, Ce, he’s just being honest.” She glanced apologetically at the kids. “Sorry, I meant his butt. Qrow, I think we have seltzer, if you want one?”

“Uh, sure.” Qrow said. Faye winked at him. She winked a lot. Now he knew where Clover got it.

“Two seltzers, please!” she said, holding up two fingers to her little brother.

Qrow flushed. “Oh, uh…you don’t have to,” he stammered. “I mean, I’m fine with it, if you want to drink. Don’t stop on my account.”

“Maybe later,” Faye said. “With dinner. Ce, what are you standing there for? Your elders require refreshments.”

Cedar scratched his head. “Yeah, no, I’m just trying to remember if we ran out. I don’t think I saw any in there.”

“Well maybe if you actually moved things around instead of just staring at the front row you’d know what you actually had,” Faye said. She stood, collapsing her axe into its closed form with a flick of her wrist and a metallic _snick_. Bianca eyed it enviously. “Honestly. Come on, I’ll show you. Ce, call Mom and Dad and tell them to pick up more on the way over. Qrow, don’t let the kids play with my axe.”

She shoved Cedar into the kitchen, ignoring his protests. And then Qrow was left alone with two small children who had completely ignored the entire exchange, and a sleeping Clover.

“M’ proud of you.”

Maybe not so sleeping.

Qrow looked down. The omega had one eye open, and a little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He reached a hand out for Qrow to take. Qrow did, rubbing the back of Clover’s hand with his thumb. He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Go back to sleep, Lucky Charm.”

Clover nodded, made a little murmur of drowsy agreement, then closed his eyes. After a while, his hand went slack. Qrow just watched him sleep, pinned in place, helpless.

There it was again. _Love._ It was almost painful in its intensity. Now that he’d put a name to it, it was all he could think about. He needed to keep a lid on it. Was _trying_ to do so. Trying to give Clover space. But it felt like the words were constantly threatening to claw their way up through his chest and out of his mouth. _I love you. I love you. I love you._ Maybe if he just whispered it, while Clover was sleeping, that would be okay. And then he could go back to thinking about anything else.

He was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of someone opening a can of seltzer _right next to_ his ear. Qrow jerked. Faye was standing behind the couch, a devilish look in her eyes. Qrow glanced down, worried he’d woken Clover. But the man really _did_ sleep like the dead, at least when Qrow _wasn’t_ having some kind of internal panic. His gaze softened as he waited for Clover to settle, then he looked back up at Faye.

She offered him the can. “Thirsty?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I pretty much started writing this as soon as I finished Breaking Like. I'm still taking it easy, so this will probably update closer to once a week, with slightly shorter chapters, instead of the frantic brain-eating machine that was the first fic. And to set expectations, the plot here will be a bit lighter, at least at first. Mostly I just wanted to spend more time with these characters, in a kind of chill way. But also...some melodrama will probably creep in. Because have you seen these two.
> 
> So basically, I don't have a Big Plan the same way as I did with Breaking Like. I'd like to alternate POV between Clover and Qrow. But you never know! We'll see! Keeping it casual! XD


	2. Cross Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clover hangs out with a rude bird. Qrow makes himself clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are officially alternating POVs every chapter. So back to Clover this week!
> 
> Also, if you have not seen this yet: Firekitten has written an incredibly good companion piece to this verse:
> 
> [Break the Tomb (To Grow to New Heights)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23378371), check it out! What an incredible gift, this was. <3 <3 <3

_Dear Vanilla Macaron,_

_For the record, I still think this is way too fucking risky. But since you insist, I’m picking the most ridiculous codenames I can think of. As an extra precaution, I would suggest we both avoid using the b-word and the c-word._

_It’s very good to hear from you. And thank you for keeping me updated on the situation, in whatever way you can. More than that, I know Cinnamon Roll appreciates the chance to keep in contact with Chocolate Chip Cookie and Hot Cross Bun. I really hope you’re picking up what I’m putting down with the names here._

_Nothing new to report. Just wanted to send my appreciation. I don’t know what kind of dropoff situation you’ve arranged over there, but since it’s you I assume it’s airtight. I’ll do my best to keep it that way on our end, if Ham and Cheese Croissant can keep his head out of his ass._

_Thanks, again. I look forward to the day we are all ruled by your hand._

_-Chocolate Croissant_

_P.S. I hope Pavlova is doing okay. I really, truly, can’t thank her enough._

_CC:_

_This is incomprehensible. You know I don’t curse. And it’s a little hypocritical considering your first sentence._

_But thank you, I will let her know. If it helps, Pavlova is in the oven full time now._

_-VM_

_VM,_

_I deeply regret this. What is the oven???_

_-CC_

_Please do not send unnecessary correspondence._

_-VM_

* * *

Clover woke, restless.

It was before sunrise. The sky was just starting to grow light. He needed to move.

As gently as he could, he extricated himself from the bed, trying not to wake Qrow. He couldn’t resist pressing a soft kiss to the alpha’s temple, before tugging on a pair of sweatpants. As he eased the door open, Qrow stirred.

“Cloves? What’s up?” he said, sitting up.

“I’m just gonna go for a run. Go back to sleep. Unless you want to come with?”

“Clover.” Qrow scrubbed at the stubble on his cheek. “What _time_ is it? _Gods._ ”

Clover chuckled. “Just thought I’d ask.”

He leaned over to give Qrow a proper kiss, before leaving. Qrow was looking at him strangely, when he pulled back. “What?” he asked.

Qrow shook his head. “Nothing, just…is there anything you wanna talk about?”

Clover shrugged. “Not that I can think of.”

Qrow paused for a moment, before lying back down. “All right, have fun. I don’t know how running could be considered fun, but…” he waved Clover off.

“You could try it,” Clover offered, teasing.

“You could suck an egg.”

He let out a laugh, loud in the morning stillness. “I won’t be long, okay? Just a quick one.”

Qrow grunted, as he shut the door.

He padded up the stairs, to Cedar and Val’s room. The door was already cracked; Rafe must have come in sometime last night. His suspicions were confirmed as he slowly pushed the door open. His nephew was splayed out in the middle of the bed, between Val and Cedar. Val was curled on her side, hugging a body pillow. Cedar was pushed to the edge of the bed.

Quiet as he could, he crept into their closet. The boots he’d worn from Atlas were fine for combat, but they were terrible for distance running. Frankly, he needed a whole new kit at some point anyway. But for now, sneakers. He knew Cedar had a pair up here somewhere–perks of being the same shoe size. He grabbed a pair of workout shorts and a t-shirt, for good measure, then exited the closet.

Cedar was stirring, as he came back into the bedroom. “That you, Shrimp?” he murmured, barely audible.

Clover held up the shoes. “Just borrowing these. I’m going for a run.”

“On a Sunday?” Cedar asked. As if that meant anything.

“Go back to bed, old man,” Clover teased, slipping out the door.

The morning fog was still hanging low as he made his way outside. He looked up and down the hill, debating. Really, there was only one thing to do.

Clover took it the hard way, jogging down to the beach. It would mean a tough finish, coming back up the hill at the end of his run, but he couldn’t _not_ swing by the ocean now that he was here. He jogged down Fillmore for a few blocks, starting slow, then cut parallel to the coast for a bit, onto Van Ness. Two more blocks, turn right again down the hill on Irving. Couple more blocks, cut back to the right on Valencia, then it was a straight shot down Market to the beach.

He hit the Embarcadero just as the sun was coming up, burning off the fog as the breeze swept it out into the ocean. This was supposed to be a short run, just out and back, but the briny air felt so good in his lungs that he kept going, running along the water. In a few hours, this street would be crowded with tourists. But it was still early, the vendors were still setting up, and the sidewalks were blessedly clear.

He ran past the wharf, past the shabby glamor of the main drag, out to where honest work was being done. Fishermen nodded their hellos as he blew past. Things were a little different, every time he came back. He counted the boats he knew, noted a few new additions, and lamented the ones that seemed to be gone. Val’s poor neglected boat got a little salute, as he passed the storage yard.

It had been a while, since he’d pushed himself like this, and he was feeling it in his feet more than his lungs. The soft tissue was unaccustomed to the repetitive slap of the pavement, after so long cooped up. He turned, reluctantly, heading back up the hill toward the house.

_Now,_ his lungs were burning. He tried to keep his form tight as he zigzagged his way back to the house, picking the streets with gentler slopes. When his chest felt like it might explode, he slowed to a walk, panting.

A squawk from behind him caught his attention.

“Qrow?”

The bird flew up in front of him, landing on the next lamppost. He ruffled his feathers.

Clover paused, doubling over to catch his breath. “Okay, I see your point. This part sucks.”

Qrow gave him that laughing squawk. The little shit.

Clover rolled his eyes, starting up again. As soon as he passed the lamppost, Qrow flew ahead, landing on the next one. “Keeping me company?” he managed, between breaths. Qrow squawked.

They leapfrogged like that for the last few blocks back up Fillmore to the house. A little warmth spread in his chest at the kind gesture. This was one of the things that was so special about Qrow. Even if he didn’t like to run, or get up early, he still found a way to do those things because _Clover_ liked to do them. He was honestly one of the most thoughtful people Clover had ever met. And an _alpha_ , too. It really was something.

Clover switched to walking again as he approached the house, pacing the block a bit to cool down. The t-shirt was fairly soaked, and he stripped it off, using it to wipe the sweat from his face before slinging it over his shoulder. Qrow was perched on the railing of the front steps, watching him.

Clover winked. “Like what you see?”

Qrow ruffled his feathers.

Clover opened the door, laughing.

As he kicked his shoes off in the entry way, Cedar came out of the kitchen.

“Those shoes work okay, Shrimp?”

Clover nodded, grinning. “The shoes are were perfect. Shorts were a little loose, though, I kept having to pull them up.”

“Cute. You’re really cute, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he replied. “You should just let me keep these shoes. It looks like you never even wear them.”

“All right,” Cedar said throwing up his hands. “You got your little jokes in. You done?”

“For now.”

Cedar gestured to the open front door. “What were you, raised in a barn? Shut the door, Shrimp.”

“I’m just waiting for- “

Qrow walked in, from the kitchen, cup of coffee in hand.

Clover whirled around.

Qrow–well, _the crow_ , apparently–flew onto a garbage can and picked out an apple core.

Clover burst out laughing.

Cedar and _actual_ Qrow stared at him as if he was insane. It was an undignified laugh that he had going on, as he leaned against the wall for support. He gestured for them to come over. “Look, Qrow, I…I thought you were…” he pointed outside, dissolving into giggles.

The two men peered past him.

“Do you…normally eat garbage?” Cedar asked Qrow.

Qrow stalked outside, shooing the crow away so it wouldn’t accidentally eat any apple seeds. It dropped the apple core, squawked, pooped, and flew off. Clover doubled over, in hysterics.

The alpha scowled, slamming the door shut behind him.

“I’m _sorry_ , Qrow! That bird was following me the whole way back. I thought it was, like, a cute thing you were doing.”

“It probably just thought you had food,” Cedar said. “Tourists keep feeding the birds; now they expect it.”

“I can’t believe,” Qrow said, voice low, “You thought that _that_ was _me.”_

“In that bird’s defense,” Clover said, “It was acting very sweet before it started eating trash. In fact, I…” he paused. “I’m really sorry, Qrow, but I definitely flirted with that bird.”

“You…” Qrow sputtered. The corners of his mouth twitched up.

Clover put his hands up. “It won’t happen again, I promise. I just hope you aren’t too jealous of a–“

_Jealous of a bird._

Clover’s smile faltered. His brain skittered off of that thought so fast it gave him whiplash. Just as Qrow’s eyes flickered in concern, he pushed away from the wall, stretching.

“I’m laying claim to those shoes until we leave, Ce. You’re obviously not gonna use them any time soon.”

Cedar rolled his eyes. “Shrimp, I’ve got so many kids, it’s a miracle I even own them.”

“Anyway, I’m taking a shower.” He looked expectantly at Qrow. “Wanna join?”

Qrow indicated his damp hair, “Oh, I just got out of...oh! Uh.”

He could literally _see_ Qrow realize his state of undress, eyes roaming over his chest and lingering where Clover’s hipbones peeked over the low-slung waistband.

Cedar made a face. “I’m sending you my water bill.”

Clover stuck his tongue out, tossing Cedar the shirt. It landed on his head. As he walked down the hall, he called over his shoulder to Qrow.

“Are you coming?”

* * *

Val was making waffles, when they finally emerged into the kitchen. Qrow leaned against the counter, pouring coffee for them both, while Clover greeted her. “How was your run?” she asked.

“Good,” he answered, honestly. “Longer than I’d planned for, but good. Went all the way to the wharf.”

“Oh yeah, how’s my boat?”

“She’s sad and lonely.”

Val sighed, rubbing her stomach. “Soon. Well. Maybe by the end of the year. We’ll see.” She patted his cheek. “You must be starving. Go ahead and start, if you want. Or you can help me set up the toppings.”

“I’ll help,” he said, “I had a little snack, when I got back.”

Qrow choked on his coffee.

“Oh, good,” Val said, oblivious. “It’s very important to get a little something, right after a workout.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Qrow _glared_ at him.

Clover winked, as he leaned over Qrow to search through the cabinets.

There was maple syrup, obviously. Clover poured some into a pot with a pat of butter and set it over a low flame, to warm up. He sipped his coffee, considering. They had bananas. That would go well with peanut butter, and honey. The kids would be easy, strawberries and whipped cream. Cedar usually preferred savory to sweet, so he rifled through the refrigerator. Ah. There was bacon, and brie cheese. That would go well with…he eyed the basil plant on the windowsill. Unconventional, but good. 

He went ahead and made the whole package of bacon, in case anyone wanted some on the side. While that was going, he sliced berries and bananas. As he whipped the cream, he chanced a look at Qrow. Doing it by hand seemed like a ridiculous flex, but it honestly was much easier than getting out the mixer. He added a little sugar and vanilla, then swiped his finger through.

“What do you think?” he said, offering his finger to Qrow. “Too sweet?”

Qrow gave him a desperate look. There was a pop from the pan of bacon, and grease spattered onto his sleeve. Qrow cursed, looking down. Clover licked the cream from his hand and turned the pan off, hiding his smirk.

Val snapped her fingers at Qrow and pointed to the sink. “Dish soap, I swear by it. Better get that out now or it’ll stain. Pour some on, let it soak for half an hour, then put it in the wash. It’d be a shame to lose a nice shirt like that.”

Qrow mumbled his thanks as he followed her orders. She was truly a force.

Val kept having to bend over to put the finished waffles in the warm oven, so from time to time he would sneak over and do it for her. She sent him grateful looks, leaning on the counter between batches. By the time the last waffle was out, all the toppings were set in neat little bowls on the kitchen table, waiting to be absolutely destroyed by Bianca and Rafe.

“Thanks, Clo,” Val said, standing on her tiptoes so she could kiss his cheek.

“No problem,” he replied. It was the least he could do, for the woman who’d taught him everything he knew about cooking.

“Brothers, how many people do you two think you’re feeding?” Faye said, waltzing into the kitchen, the last one up.

“We can freeze the extras,” Val said, eyebrow twitching. “For the kids.”

“They reheat really well in the toaster,” Clover added.

Faye put her hands up. “Okay, wonder twins, I was just asking.”

Clover actually _was_ starving at that point, so he went to get Cedar and the kids from the living room. “Breakfast is ready,” he said.

Cedar was sitting on the couch, literally covered in children. Rafe was in his lap, rolling trucks over his torso, while Bianca crawled over his shoulders, draped halfway over the back of the couch. Clover took pity on him, offering Bianca his back for a piggyback ride.

“Morning, Bibi. Morning, Rae-Rae. You guys want waffles?”

The kids cheered. Bianca crawled onto his back, Cedar hoisted Rafe up onto his hip, and they made their way into the kitchen. Val and Faye were already seated, fixing their own breakfasts. He set Bianca down next to Val. As he straightened, he swayed a little, lightheaded.

“Easy there, Lucky Charm.” Qrow said, steadying him with an arm at his elbow. He’d changed his shirt. “Sit,” Qrow instructed, leading him to an empty chair.

He did, looking up at the alpha sheepishly. “Thanks, Qrow.”

Qrow rolled his eyes. “What do you want on your waffle?”

Was it strange that he found that so romantic? Clover’s heart fluttered. “I can actually use my arms just fine, thanks. But if you _want_ to, I’ll take peanut butter with banana and honey.”

Faye looked up from where she was putting…wow, _way too much_ whipped cream on Bianca’s waffle. They’d all be dealing with _that_ , later. “It always tastes better when you make it with _love,_ right?”

Qrow paused, sending a panicked glance down to Clover. A stab of guilt went through him. He tore his eyes from Qrow, who coughed and then resumed preparing his breakfast.

Val frowned, feeling his face. “You’ve got low blood sugar,” she said. “I thought you said you had a snack?”

Cedar looked up from where he was cutting Rafe’s waffle, suspicious.

He waved her off. “I’m fine, Val.”

“What if you’d passed out on your run or something? Next time have a little more.”

His mouth twitched. He couldn’t help it. “It was pretty big.”

Cedar dropped his knife on the floor.

* * *

Faye had plans with some old friends, so she left right after breakfast. And Cedar, Val, and the kids were supposed to spend the day with Val’s parents. Val made it clear that they were welcome to come, but Clover felt a little guilty for monopolizing Bianca and Rafe the past few days. He didn’t want to butt into precious grandparent time. Plus, he wanted to show Qrow around town a bit.

“You know I’ve already been to Argus, right?” Qrow said. “And I don’t really care about that touristy shit?”

Clover was sitting cross-legged in front of the couch, scroll in hand, making an itinerary for the day. Everyone else had already left; it was just the two of them in the house. Qrow sat behind him, legs braced on either side of his body, idly playing with his hair. It was…a little distracting, but it felt so good he didn’t really want Qrow to stop. It just meant that he was being a tad more indecisive than he would have otherwise.

“This isn’t touristy!” he protested. “I’ve been coming here every summer, basically since I was born. I know what’s good. We at least have to get oysters for lunch, I know a great place. Or maybe chowder, that’s more iconic. But this oyster place is _really_ good.”

While Atlas would always be his home, there was a special place in his heart for this city. His cousins had been like his safe haven, growing up. They’d always supported him, and he didn’t have to hide anything from them–nor could he for long if he tried. Everything that he couldn’t be in Atlas, even back before he presented, he’d been able to be here. They weren’t all _good_ memories, of course, but they’d been authentically _his_.

Even his weapon, Kingfisher, he’d shaped as a reminder of those halcyon days. Fishing off the pier with Cedar and Faye, hauling their catch up the hill. Laughing and joking and trying to one-up each other. They’d all been so young and innocent, back then.

Qrow needed to see it, to see everything.

The alpha just grunted at his waffling, fingers massaging Clover’s temples. _Fuck_ , that felt good. He tried to concentrate.

“Have you been to the Maritime Museum? It’s actually really interesting.”

“I can’t think of anything I would want to do less.” Qrow murmured. He pushed his slender fingers across Clover’s scalp, starting at the base of his neck and working all the way through to the tuft at the front, then smoothing the hair back down until his fingertips once again danced at Clover’s hairline.

He sighed, contentedly, closing his eyes. “Gods, Qrow, you’re gonna put me right to sleep if you keep doing that.”

Qrow leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Here’s my suggestion: why don’t we go back to bed for a bit?”

Oh. That was…well. That was an idea.

“Already?” he squeaked, feeling the first hint of a blush. They had just…and last night, too.

Qrow snorted into Clover’s hair, flicking his ear. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Lucky Charm. I’m talking about sleep.”

“Sleep? We just had breakfast. I’m not…”

He trailed off as Qrow dragged his hand through his hair again, letting out a little breath. Qrow finished the motion by running his hand all the way down his neck, to his shoulder, massaging the tendons there. He groaned, feeling the tension drip out of him.

Clearly, this was a deliberate ploy. He batted Qrow’s hand away, somewhat reluctantly, twisting around to face the alpha. “Stop being distracting. I’ll sleep when I’m dead. I want to spend time with you, while we still can.”

Qrow leaned back, studying him. “Clover, I…are we really not gonna talk about last night?”

He frowned. “What about last night?”

He tried to think back. What had happened?

Well. There was _one thing_ that was kind of unusual. Clover flushed. No one had ever done _that_ to him before. And it had been…really _good,_ actually. But maybe Qrow didn’t…maybe Qrow hadn’t…but _Qrow_ had been the one to suggest it, hadn’t he? His head spun.

“I…was that bad?”

Qrow frowned. “It was pretty bad, yeah.”

He felt his heart drop out through his stomach.

“Oh. Okay. I…then why did you want to…I mean I kind of liked it, but…of course, we don’t have to do that again, I see why you wouldn’t want to…”

He was babbling, humiliated. Honestly, he could have just crawled through the floorboards. What an idiot he’d been, flirting with Qrow all morning like he was King of the Castle. Of _course_ , Qrow wasn’t interested in Clover’s little indulgences. Of course, he would want something more. What was the only thing alphas wanted, the one thing he hadn’t given Qrow?

Oh gods, that wasn’t _even_ the only thing, he’d also left Qrow fucking _dangling_ after he’d told Clover he _loved_ him. He was so fucking stupid, he couldn’t believe himself.

Qrow’s frown deepened into something profoundly confused, as he picked up the change in Clover’s scent. “Cloves, what are you _talking_ about? Your _dream_ was bad.”

He blinked. “What?”

Qrow just stared at him, expression unreadable. “You had a really bad nightmare, last night. Do you not remember?”

A _nightmare?_

He racked his brain, trying to think back. What had he been dreaming about, last night?

_Jealous of a bird_

_That patience has its limits_

_You are **mine**_

“Fuck!” he muttered, jumping up. His hands shook. He felt like he needed to scrub his whole body from the inside out. The restlessness from this morning settled anew over his shoulders, claws hooked into his skin.

Qrow reached out his hand. “Do you wanna talk about– “

“ _No._ ”

He ignored Qrow’s hand, pacing. He _didn’t_ want to talk about it.

“Okay, easy,” Qrow said. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I’m just worried, is all.”

Breathe. He could…he could _breathe_ , right? He wasn’t there. Everything was okay. This was just a nice vacation with his boyfriend and his family. Nothing bad had happened.

“I…” he breathed out. In, out. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Cloves. _I’m_ sorry, okay? I didn’t realize I was springing that on you. You really didn’t remember?”

He shook his head. His heart rate was coming back to normal, now.

“What did you… _think_ I was talking about?”

Clover almost laughed. Well. _Now,_ he might as well ask. He sat back down on the couch next to Qrow, head between his hands.

“Are you mad that we haven’t knotted yet?”

Qrow blinked. “Am I…why would I be _mad?”_

Clover shrugged. It was obvious. “That’s what people want, right? Everything else is kind of…foreplay, right? For you?”

Qrow stared at him, uncomprehending. “Leaving aside the fact that we’ve been here less than a week, what on _Remnant_ would make you think that?”

Clover shrugged again, blushing. He was starting to feel stupid in a completely different way. “I mean, most of my heats have been fairly…goal-oriented.”

“Clover,” Qrow offered his hand, again. This time, Clover took it. “I _like_ what we’ve been doing. And I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for.”

It sounded so nice. But it was also…

He ducked his head, unable to look at Qrow. Finally, he came out with it.

“James used to say that, too, at first. That we could wait until I was ready.”

It was…a lot more, to be frank, than he’d initially wanted to reveal. The edges of his nightmare threatened to take him away, again. Qrow stroked the back of his hand, with his thumb, until the feeling subsided.

It wasn’t that he didn’t _trust_ Qrow. He did, to an almost frightening degree. Their relationship, new as it was, already felt so different than it had been with James. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to _push_ the alpha, to see how far he could go until Qrow lost control. The lingering ambiguity was eating at him; this was all new territory. He just needed to know where the boundary was, before he could feel comfortable on his preferred side.

“Okay,” Qrow said, sighing. “What about a safe word?”

Clover scrunched up his face. It sounded like something Harriet would need. “Qrow, I know I said I was open to trying new things, but I don’t really think I’m into.. _._ all _that._ ”

Harriet had a big mouth and she liked to brag. And she was a bit of a…thrill seeker. Some of the stuff she bragged about, when she was new and trying to impress everyone, had been...well, let’s just say he was glad he’d never asked _Harriet_ to share a heat with him. His team had required a lot of additional training on proper comm use, after that.

“It’s not just for…” Qrow huffed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Gods, Lucky Charm, I’m not gonna do anything weird to you. It’s just so if one of us ever wants to stop–not just _maybe_ stop but like, fucking stop right now–the other will know right away.”

Oh. So it was just shorthand. Well, that seemed very efficient.

“Okay,” he said. “What word should we use?”

Qrow shrugged. “Pick whatever you want. Something you wouldn’t normally say to me in bed.”

Now that this had turned into a brainstorming session, Clover felt a lot more in his lane. “Realistically, I’m probably going to be using it more than you,” he said, thinking out loud. “It would make me feel…”

He let out a breath, taking a leap of faith. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do. But if I’m using it, then I’m probably already not feeling whatever it is that’s happening. And I’d feel better, going forward, if I knew that once I said it, you would get there with me as soon as possible. What’s something that would instantly snap you out of whatever you were doing?”

A dark look fell over Qrow’s face. “Zwei.”

“What’s Zwei?”

“Tai’s stupid dog.”

Clover raised his eyebrows. “Your brother-in-law’s dog. If we were in bed together, and I wanted to just completely kill the mood for you, ‘zwei’ would do it?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Qrow muttered.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Is there a…story there, you wanna share?”

“Absolutely not.”

Clover laughed, then took a deep breath. A safe word. That was kind of nice. He squeezed Qrow’s hand.

“Okay, ‘zwei’ it is. And you know you can say it to me, too, right? I mean, I know I’ve been a little, uh…bossy, lately. I don’t want to push you, either.”

Qrow gave him a little smile. “Deal. And for the record, I like it when you’re bossy.”

Clover felt his cheeks heat up. There was just one thing he needed to check up on. “So, uh…that _thing we did_ , last night, you weren’t…that wasn’t bad, for you?”

Qrow paused. “Is that what you thought I was saying?”

Clover laughed again, nervously this time, shrugging one shoulder. “I thought maybe you were just doing it for me, even though you didn’t like it. It’s just that most alphas wouldn’t bother.”

“You thought I would tell you that…fuck, Cloves, I would _never_ say that.” Qrow looked a little offended–more so than this morning, even.

There was a little niggling doubt inside him. “I mean, I trust you to be a little more tactful, but you’re entitled to your opinion.”

Qrow growled. “ _Clover._ Do you want me to tell you how fucking good you taste?”

Oh.

“Because I will. And I’ll do it every night, if you want. I’ll tell you how much I want it and then I’ll fucking do it.”

Clover’s whole face was red. He squirmed. Gods, Qrow’s voice really did… _things_ to him. “I mean, a refresher wouldn’t hurt I suppose.”

Qrow leaned over, and whispered in Clover’s ear his _exact opinion_ on the topic.

Clover stood, abruptly, jerking his thumb down the hall. “Do you wanna, um…I mean, you’re right, that touristy stuff is overrated, in my opinion.”

Qrow smirked. “Race you to the bedroom?”

“You’re on,” he quipped. “What’s the winner get?”

Qrow didn’t even know what was coming to him. He was about to wipe the floor with this beautiful man.

“I’ll let you know in a minute,” Qrow said.

He turned into a bird and flew down the hall.

Fuck. Clover forgot about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, welcome to my 1930s screwball sex farce. Also a little plot, as a treat.
> 
> Also, because Argus was based aesthetically on San Francisco, where I lived for several years, I've thrown in a few actual street names as a tribute. But the geography is all garbage, I assure you.


	3. Make Something Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qrow is not a monster, except he is, until he isn’t. Clover takes the edge off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just sappy filth.

_Hey I got a message for ~~Blondie~~ ~~I guess some stupid food name~~ Blondie. (This actually works and I have a great recipe if anyone’s interested. It’s really very easy; even CR couldn’t screw it up. _ _–CC)_

_Uh, his sister says hi. That’s it, that’s the message._

_-About To Take His Revenge For That Smartass Comment_

_~~I’d like to see you try~~ _

_~~You know I could take you down~~ _

_~~Is that an offer ;)~~ _ ~~~~

_[incomprehensible scribbles]_

_Sorry, ignore all that. Blondie, your sis says hi. And her wife, and I guess the kid probably._

_Dear ATTHRFTSC,_

_Tell them I say hi too!!!_

_-Blondie? I think that’s me???_

_I would appreciate the recipe, if you’re comfortable sharing it. –Green Tea Mochi_

**_HELL YEAH!!!_ ** _[unsigned]_

_(CR and CC, perhaps it would be best if you did not compose these messages together if they are intended to be remotely readable. –VM)_

_Green Tea Mochi,_

_4 oz. butter, melted_

_1 cup flour_

_1/2 teaspoon baking powder_

_1/4 teaspoon salt_

_1 cup brown sugar_

_1 egg_

_1 teaspoon vanilla_

_v. simple, just mix and bake at 350 degrees, 20-30 mins until done. Even better if you brown the butter first. Optional walnuts or chocolate chips, I trust you to use your good judgement._

_-Chocolate Croissant_

_P.S. Better make double if you’re making it for Gingerbread. Or triple._

_~~What a fuckin’ showoff~~ _

_jk they were really good can attest –Infinitely Patient Boyfriend_

_For future reference, I don’t consider recipes to be essential correspondence. However, Pavlova enjoyed this one as well. She believes the browned butter is essential. I’m not really sure what that means, just passing it along._

_-VM_

_ONLY GTM AND PAVLOVA SHOULD ATTEMPT BROWNING THE BUTTER I CANNOT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGH, IT IS AN ADVANCED TECHNIQUE_

_-CC_

_Chocolate Croissant,_

_Too late, Gingerbread already set The Oven on fire like three times. Pavlova banned her from the kitchen._

_-Blondie_

_Ah, there’s your problem. You should do it on the stovetop, not in the oven._

_-CC_

* * *

Clover, apparently, resembled his mother, which meant he didn’t much look like Cedar or Faye, who resembled both their father and Clover’s. Which meant he _really_ didn’t look like Bianca or Rafe, who resembled Val. Nonetheless, people on the street kept mistaking Clover for their bearer. Possibly this was due to the three of them wandering around with Qrow, who with his coloring kind of _did_ , at least superficially, resemble the Su family. And who also could not keep his hands off of Clover.

Qrow had tried to be respectful of Clover’s family, when they were at the house. Faye had ceded the first-floor guest bedroom to them and was sleeping on the sofa in the second-floor den, which was _right above_ their room. She insisted she slept with earplugs, as she gave Qrow a wink, but that didn’t make it any less weird. So, he kept the PDA to a minimum, and tried to be quiet during their…nighttime activities.

There were several problems with this strategy. The first was that _Clover_ didn’t particularly care about being respectful of his family. In fact, he seemed to be kind of rubbing it in their faces, especially Cedar. The second problem was that Clover was _loud,_ which was a problem both for the sanctity of the Ebi-Su house and for Qrow personally, because all those little noises went straight to his dick. He could only guess that the omega was having some kind of late in life sexual awakening, of which _he_ was reaping the benefits.

Which all meant that Qrow’s attempts to downplay their physical relationship in front of his boyfriend’s family were not really working. In fact, Clover seemed to be interpreting them as a personal challenge. Last night, for example, they’d all been watching a movie together. Clover _had_ been sitting on the floor with Bianca. But as soon as Qrow dropped into the corner armchair he’d waltzed over, sat in Qrow’s lap, and wiggled his perfect ass trying to “get comfortable” until Qrow was inconveniently, painfully hard.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Qrow had given up, and now he was just enjoying the ride.

Well. Actually, he was driving the car.

“Qrow,” Clover warned, “We are in a _public park_. There are _children._ ”

Clover didn’t care if his cousins saw them flirting, but he did care about _basic human decency_. Qrow did not.

He paused, “Do you want me to stop?” he murmured, into the shell of Clover’s ear. He had a good hunch about this, but he waited, nonetheless.

Clover shook his head. Qrow felt relief, in the back of his mind. The safe word had really amped up their communication, in both directions. If Qrow was going to be traipsing through the wreckage of every asshole alpha Clover had ever been with, he needed a way to distinguish if what he was doing was ‘stop’ good or ‘stop’ _bad._ Having the safety net there took a lot of the pressure off.

“I’ll keep watch,” Clover said.

Qrow highly doubted he would be able to do that if his plans came to fruition–and oh, he had plans. He huffed a laugh into the omega’s ear, and Clover _shivered_.

In his continued attempts to run himself ragged, Clover had gone ahead and relieved the usual cadre of babysitters Val and Cedar used during the week. Today, they were filling in for the grandparents, Clover’s Aunt and Uncle. They were at the playground, in the awkward time slot between picking up Rafe from preschool and picking up Bianca from ‘big girl school,’ as she called it.

So it was, to be fair, a completely inappropriate setting for Qrow to be doing what he was doing. These afternoon excursions with the kids were fun, and truly a highlight of his day, but they also came right after the other highlight of his day, which was to use the fact that the house was empty in the mornings to lick every inch of skin he could see on Clover, and then some that he couldn’t.

Unfortunately, sometimes there was unfinished business that he had to attend to, later on.

He was sitting behind Clover on their picnic blanket, while Rafe played. Behind Qrow, trees and tall bushes blocked them from view. So as far as he was concerned, anything he did to Clover was fair game, as long as he did it to the back of him.

“Uncle Clover!” Rafe called. He was at the top of the slide. “Watch me!”

“Okay, Rae-Rae! I’m watching!” Clover shouted. “Good lu– _Qrow!”_ he hissed.

Qrow pulled back from where he’d just pressed an absolutely filthy open-mouthed kiss to the back of Clover’s neck, teeth scraping against the skin. “Hmm?” he asked.

“Did you see me?” Rafe shouted.

“Uh-huh!” Clover replied, his voice skewing toward the high side. Qrow snuck a hand under his shirt, fingers dancing over the warm skin at the small of Clover’s back. “Sure did!”

Qrow didn’t think he had. He kissed a little lower, dangerously close to the sensitive spot on Clover’s neck. Clover bit back a whimper. His scent spiked with arousal.

That should just about do it.

“Qrow,” Clover gasped, “If I miss him eating sand or something because you are distracting me I swear to the Brothers–what are you doing?”

Qrow sat back on his heels, completely breaking the contact. Clover swayed a little as he pulled away. “You’re absolutely right, that was irresponsible of me. I’ll stop.”

Clover stared at him, helplessly. His face was flushed, pupils wide. “Qrow, I…I…you can’t be…you’re not just gonna…”

Qrow just hummed, innocently. He wasn’t a monster, after all. He had standards. He wasn’t about to make Clover _come in his pants_ in the middle of a crowded playground.

He definitely could, though.

“What time does Bianca’s school let out?”

“Three,” Clover said.

“And when does your cousin get home?”

“Five-thirty.”

“Huh,” Qrow mused. “What time is it now?”

Clover checked his scroll. “One-fifteen,” he answered, with dread.

“Hmph,” Qrow mused. “Do you want me to _tell_ you what I’m going to do to you, in four hours and fifteen minutes? Or would you prefer I surprised you?”

The omega just stared, mouth open. He shifted a bit on the picnic blanket, the little telltale squirm that let Qrow know he was _wet_. Qrow turned his attention to the playground, hiding his smirk as he idly watched Rafe play with his trucks. “Tell you what, why don’t you just think about it for a bit. I’ll keep an eye on the kid.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Clover squeaked. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Clover discreetly adjust himself, then press his chilled water bottle to his face. It would probably be more effective if he stuck it down his pants.

“Of course,” he added, just for fun, “Feel free to make any suggestions. But you’ll have to be _pretty_ specific.”

That one wasn’t gonna make it any easier for Qrow, but he thought it was worth it. Clover usually had pretty good suggestions.

“ _Qrow_ ,”

Gods, when Clover said his name like that…

It was music to his ears. A sappy smile crept onto his face, ruining the whole effect.

“Qrow?”

Clover _jumped_ , and Qrow whipped his head around.

Saphron and Terra Cotta-Arc were standing next to him, little Adrian cooing happily in his stroller.

He…had not been expecting that.

Just his luck.

It’s not that it hadn’t _occurred_ to him that he technically did know a few people in Argus. But it was a decent sized city, and he figured they probably wouldn’t want to see him. And he definitely didn’t want to see them, or think about them, or think about anything he’d said or done on that awful journey. He wouldn’t have remembered where their house was, anyway. It was all a blur.

“Oh, uh…hi.”

He was an idiot.

The two women looked from him to Clover, expectantly.

He chanced a look at Clover, whose eyebrows might as well have flown off his forehead. Something on Qrow’s face must have expressed his deep distress, because true to form, the other man swept in with a save.

Clover stood–a little gingerly, and Qrow cursed himself again–and offered his hand. “Hi, I’m Clover. I didn’t know Qrow had any friends in Argus.”

They both shook his hand, a little shocked. “I’m Terra, and this is my wife, Saphron.”

Clover knelt down. “And who’s this little guy?” he asked, making faces at Adrian until he laughed.

Fuck, he really was good with kids. Saphron’s face softened a bit. “This is Adrian. Is one of these yours, or…?”

Or were they just fooling around in a playground like total perverts, Qrow finished.

“Oh!” Clover said. He pointed to Rafe, who was currently making explosion sounds as he pushed his trucks around the sandbox. “That one. That’s Rafe, he’s four.”

The two women looked from Clover, with his teal eyes and tan skin, to Rafe, with his pale skin and dark hair. And then to Qrow. Clover made the connection at the same time as he did.

“It’s not mine!” Qrow blurted.

Simultaneously, Clover said, “He’s my cousin’s son. We’re babysitting.”

The Cotta-Arcs exchanged a look. Qrow winced. Clover coughed. “So how do you all know each other?”

“Through my little brother,” Saphron said, wary.

“Jaune,” Qrow supplied. This, he could handle.

Clover’s face lit up in recognition. “You’re Jaune’s sister?” he laughed. “Of course, I totally see it now. You two look so alike.”

 _This_ had them both interested. “You know Jaune?” Terra asked.

Clover nodded. “He’s an excellent young Huntsman, and quite the promising team leader. And he’s very popular with the people of Mantle. You should be proud. And he…” Clover paused, turning to him, questioning. ‘ _How much do they know?’_ the look conveyed.

Qrow waved his hand, as if to say ‘ _go crazy.’_

Clover winked at him, then threw the Cotta-Arcs another brilliant smile. Qrow breathed a sigh of relief at being out of the limelight. Soon Clover had them eating out of the palm of his hand. They might think Qrow was garbage, but they _did_ want to know all about team JNR’s antics in Atlas.

“So by this point he’s got, like _three_ casseroles, and Nora decides– _crap_ , is that Rafe?”

Qrow looked over at the playground, where Rafe had been running with some other kids. Except now he was sitting on the ground, having tripped and fallen. He looked like he was working himself up to a decent cry. Qrow was about to volunteer to handle it, just to get out of this conversation, but Clover was already sprinting over, instincts sharp.

And then he was alone with two people who had met him at his lowest.

He didn’t, honestly, remember _much_ about them. He’d been too drunk, and too depressed over Oz and Salem. Sometimes it felt like it had all taken place in another _life._ Except that little moments kept haunting him, reminding him of how worthless he was. How he ruined everything he touched. How everyone he loved would either leave or betray him or be hurt because of him.

He looked out at Clover, Rafe hitched up on his hip as he comforted the boy. How long until Clover decided to dump his ass? Or worse, how long until Clover would be _taken away_ , by James or by Salem or by plain bad luck? The idea of it loomed in his mind, the stakes higher than ever before.

“He’s sweet,” Saphron said, watching him watch Clover. “You two met in Atlas?”

Terra had taken Adrian over to the sandbox to play. It was just the two of them. Qrow nodded.

“He’s a… _Hunstman_ , in Atlas?” Saphron asked, cautiously. “In the military?”

No use denying it. Clover was an omega, plain as day. It was obvious to anyone with half a nose and at least one good eye. He was also so fucking gorgeous it hurt.

“Was,” Qrow corrected. Tears stung at his eyes. Just another thing he’d ruined. “It was…a bad situation.”

Saphron sighed. “You know, I almost didn’t recognize you, when we saw you just now.”

Qrow looked down at himself. “Oh, uh, they gave us some new gear in Atlas.”

She laughed. “It’s not the outfit, though that’s pretty sharp. It’s…you seem happy.”

What was _that_ supposed to mean?

They sat in silence, for a while, before she spoke again. “You quit drinking, didn’t you?”

He blinked, surprised. “How did you…?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Yeah, I…” Qrow shook his head. “Right before I met him, actually.”

She raised her eyebrows at that. “Before? That’s good. Good for you, Qrow.”

Qrow furrowed his brow. Why was it _good_ that Clover had never seen firsthand what a monster he was? That Clover had no idea what a terrible mess he’d gotten himself into by hanging around with Qrow?

“It means you were ready for him,” Saphron said, before he could ask. “You’d already decided. It’s not something you did for _him_ , but for yourself. But…I bet it helps to have him around.”

It did, but she was giving Qrow entirely too much credit. It was Ruby, really, who had snapped him out of it. Who had literally slapped the sense into him. He _had_ to try to be better, for her and for Yang. He had to do right by...

By Summer.

“Look…” Qrow sighed. He might as well do this, if they were gonna have this conversation. “I should apologize. When we met, I was…that was as bad as it’s ever been. So, uh…sorry.”

Saphron studied him for a while, then held her hand out. “Let me give you my scroll number. I don’t know how long you’ll be in Argus, but if you need someone to talk to while you’re here, you can call me. I know how hard it is, to be away from your family.”

Qrow stared at her, shocked. She only gestured, again, until he handed over his scroll. “I’m sorry, why would you…?”

Saphron snorted as she punched her number in. “Look, Qrow, you may have your faults but I know my baby brother. He never would have made it from Beacon to Atlas without a little help.”

She handed his scroll back. “So, if there’s anything I can do to repay the favor…let me know. Apology accepted.”

Jaune had actually _saved his life_ several times, and he was about to tell her exactly that, when a _different_ little voice in his head reminded him not to deflect compliments. He kept his mouth shut. Besides, it was…kind of nice, to know he had a friend, here.

Clover came back over then, Rafe sniffling in his arms. “I, uh, think we’d better go. Qrow, can you go grab his toys?”

He scrambled up, jogging over to retrieve Rafe’s trucks. When he came back, Clover was saying his goodbyes to the Cotta-Arcs. He knelt down, with Rafe, urging the boy to say goodbye to little Adrian. Rafe, still sniffling, gave a tentative smile as Adrian clutched his hand.

Fuck. He…he really was…he was just so…so _good._

As they walked back to the house, legs straining as they climbed the steep hills, Clover kept glancing at him. Rafe was passed out on his shoulder, but he didn’t seem to mind the extra weight.

“I can hear you thinking,” he said.

Qrow started, then rolled his eyes. “That’s my line.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Qrow shrugged.

Clover let him brood for several blocks. Finally, Qrow said, “I met them right before…right before I quit.”

Clover blinked. “Oh. I…I didn’t know, I’m sorry. That must be…a hard memory.”

He shrugged, shoulders hunched. “It wasn’t my finest moment. I passed out right on the front steps of their house.”

They kept walking in silence, for another few blocks. As Qrow went to turn down the side street they normally took, Clover shook his head, keeping them on the main road. 

“This way’s faster,” he said. “Rafe’s getting kinda heavy.”

“You want me to take him?”

Clover just smiled. “I’ve got it, but thanks.”

He shrugged, following. All these narrow streets looked the same to him, anyway. This particular block was so steep that it had little half-steps cut into one side of the sidewalk, just squat enough to be annoying to climb. He could see why Clover usually went around it.

About halfway down the block, Clover slowed, then stopped. He turned to Qrow, face unreadable.

Qrow looked around, curious. Down the hill was the main road leading to the beach. Up the hill was a straight shot to the Ebi-Su house. They were standing in front of a nondescript alley, running between a flower shop and a ramen place. Clover pointed into the alley.

“There,” he said. “That’s where it happened.”

At first, Qrow had zero idea what he was referring to. But Clover had this kind of nervous determination about him, standing in this spot, not actually looking directly where he was pointing.

Oh. Oh, _no._

In the _street?_ That was so much worse than Qrow had imagined.

“Cloves, I… _fuck_ , I’m so sorry.”

Clover shrugged, with his free shoulder. The casual, resigned attitude all but broke his heart. “It’s in the past. Nothing either of us can do now,” he said. He shook his head. “Look, I didn’t take you here to derail you, it’s just that…it took me a really long time, to be able to walk down this street. It’s still not my favorite thing to do, as you’ve may have noticed.”

He looked at Qrow so earnestly, so open. Qrow’s breath caught in his throat. “It’s okay if…if it’s hard to come back to some places, for you. You’ll get there eventually.”

“I…thank you,” Qrow said, voice cracking.

There really wasn’t anything else to say.

They turned and left that awful place, walking in contemplative silence, until they could return to the comfort of the warm, wood-paneled walls and plush carpets of the Ebi-Su house.

* * *

Neither of them had really intended to follow through with their earlier plans. The mood was so quiet, bordering on somber, well into the evening. But it all built so slowly, Qrow hardly noticed that it had become so heated.

They were little gestures that started it, things he did almost without thinking about them. Offering Clover his hand as they passed from room to room, two peas in a pod. Bumping their knees together, at the dinner table. Brushing his hand through Clover’s hair as he leaned against Qrow’s shoulder while he read. And then the way Clover responded, like he’d won the lottery every time Qrow touched him. Shining teal eyes, expressing earnest thanks. Little sighs of contentment. Gentle kisses placed deliberately at his temple.

Gradually, it became apparent that they were falling into a kind of elaborate choreography, not unlike when they fought side by side. One of them always right there, to slot in alongside the other just as the opening appeared. Washing the dishes, getting ready for bed. Tame as the tasks were, there was an undercurrent of coordinated desire to every motion.

He used to think, when they’d started doing missions together, that Clover was maybe just not as strong of a fighter without his semblance. How could he be, with that fishing pole? Almost immediately, he’d realized how wrong he was. Clover was _setting him up_. He had a sixth sense for the members of his team, and quickly for Qrow in particular, able to read their movements and guide them toward the best possible performance. It took an incredible amount of skill.

It was intoxicating, to be the focus of all that. To feel Clover pick him apart, choosing the best parts to display. And even more so, to be the one to pay it forward. To be the person that _Clover_ trusted to take care of him, in return.

“You’re good,” Clover whispered to him, chasing away the ghosts.

They were in bed, Qrow’s head pillowed on Clover’s chest, as the omega ran his fingers through Qrow’s hair.

“You’re so good, Qrow, you know that? You’re caring, and you’re sweet, and you’re selfless, and you’re so fucking _good_.” 

Qrow closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him. Coming from Clover, he could almost start to believe they were true.

He opened his eyes, tilting his head back. Clover was gazing at him adoringly. He pushed himself up, bringing their faces closer. For a while they just stayed like that, eyes locked, breathing in each other’s air. The words bubbled up in him again, almost overwhelming. _I love you._

“Clover, I…”

He fought them back, just barely. His heart felt like it was about to explode. It was the most terrifying sensation he’d had in his life.

Clover pressed a hand to his cheek. “Say it,” he murmured, voice dangerously low. “Tell me. I want to hear it.”

Qrow could have sobbed with relief.

“I love you.”

He punctuated it with a kiss, whisper soft. Clover gasped, against his mouth. “I _love_ you. You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Each platitude was accompanied with another kiss, growing more intense each time. The effect on Clover was instantaneous. He moaned, pulling Qrow closer, bringing their bodies together.

“ _Qrow_ ,” he pleaded. “I need you. I need you to _show me_.”

 _Gods,_ he was lucky _._

Qrow drew it out, savoring every touch. Tempering Clover’s impatience as they shed their clothes. Slowing it down so he could make it last as long as possible.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing the calloused palm of Clover’s hand.

“I love you,” to his hipbone.

“I love you,” to the back of his thigh.

By the time he made it back up to the crook of Clover’s neck, the omega was quivering, strung tight. They _both_ were. He ghosted his breath over the sensitive spot, drinking in the scent. It was pure _Clover_ , sunshine and light and relentless optimism. He hovered over the skin, waiting for permission.

“Please, yes,” Clover panted, “Qrow, I…”

“I love you,” he murmured, then kissed Clover _right there._

Clover cried out, _writhing_ as Qrow licked and nipped at his scent gland. A particularly well-aimed roll of the omega’s hips had him pausing, catching his breath.

“Easy,” he breathed. Clover shuddered, underneath him. Fuck, he was close. He gently pulled Clover’s hands from his hips. “Let me take care of you, okay? Wanna make this last. Gonna make you feel so good, Lucky Charm. Can I do that?”

Clover nodded, biting his lip. Qrow worked his way back down, slowly, giving Clover time to adjust. That didn’t stop the tirade of needy pleas coming out of the other’s mouth.

“Fuck, Qrow, _please_ , I need you, I need you to touch me, fuck that feels so fucking good don’t stop don’t stop–“

Every word built him up higher, wound him up more. Qrow had simply never been with anyone so responsive to his touch, before. That feeling of connection, whether in the intensity of battle or the intimacy of the bedroom, was stronger than anything he’d ever shared with anyone else. And it was all building to a delicious head.

Qrow knelt between Clover’s legs, glancing up at the other man. It was quite the sight–Clover had one hand fisted in the sheets and the other bent back to grip the headboard. His pupils were blown so wide there was only a hint of teal visible. There was a faint sheen of sweat coating his skin, his body wound tight, muscles tense, the length of his cock standing proud.

“I love you,” he whispered, before taking Clover in his mouth.

Clover bit back a cry, hand flying up to muffle the sound. Qrow teased him a bit, then pulled off with a wet pop. “Wanna hear you. Don’t hold back, okay?”

Clover nodded, lowering his hand. “Qrow, seriously, I’m not gonna last, I’m so fucking close, I-ah!”

Another moan, louder and more desperate, as Qrow licked him from root to tip. He licked his palm then wrapped his hand around the base of Clover’s cock. Clover twitched in his hand, as he keened. The sound of it sent a trill of arousal down his spine.

The omega was close, all right. Qrow could work with that. He sent Clover a filthy grin and then took him in his mouth again, pumping him with his hand at the same time. He went deeper, bobbing his head, his other hand reaching under the omega to tease his slick opening.

“ _Qrow!”_

Clover came with his name on his lips, a shudder rolling through his whole body. Qrow pulled up, milking him with his hand so he could swallow every last drop. Clover went limp, panting, his arm slung over his eyes as Qrow licked him clean.

Qrow gave him about a minute, before he started up again.

“Gods, Qrow, that was…you’re so…Qrow, _Qrow,”_

Clover whined as Qrow wriggled the tip of his finger inside of him, giving him an incredulous look. Qrow just grinned. He hooked one of Clover’s legs over his shoulder so he could get a better angle, removed his finger, then took his rings off one by one, making a show of it.

“Oh, did you think that you were done?”

He slipped his finger back in, easing the tight muscle open. Gods, Clover was so fucking _wet._ He added a second finger, pushing in deeper, stretching.

“Seriously, Qrow, you’re just gonna keep… _fuck!”_

Ah, there was the good spot.

“You want me to stop? You can say it. You remember what we talked about?”

Clover nodded, frantic.

“Do you want to say it?”

Clover shook his head. He whimpered, as Qrow curled his fingers just _so_.

Apparently, this was ‘stop’ _good_. Qrow kept going. The needy moans turned frantic as Clover started responding all over again, his cock hardening. Qrow leaned in, placing a wet kiss to the inside of his thigh. Clover _squirmed_ , pressing back against Qrow’s fingers, trying to get more.

“Shit, fuck, _Qrow_ , would you just…that’s so…ahh!”

Qrow was insistent. “You can give me another one, can’t you, Lucky Charm?”

He curled his fingers, hitting the same spot over and over again. Fuck, the _noises_ Clover was making were absolutely _filthy._ The omega made a hysterical sort of laugh as he pushed his hips up into Qrow’s hand. He was _dripping_. Qrow added a third finger.

“Qrow, I… _fuck_ that’s good. You’re so fucking good. I can’t, I _can’t_ I’m gonna– “

Qrow leaned down, whispering in the omega’s ear. He was barely holding on, himself. “Do it. Come for me, Lucky Charm.”

Another _curl_ of Qrow’s fingers and that was it. Clover let out a choked cry as he came for the second time, sobbing. Qrow worked him through it, only pulling his fingers out when Clover’s cries went from needy to oversensitive.

He unhooked Clover’s leg, and the omega pulled Qrow down on top of him for a sloppy kiss. He reached a hand down between them. Qrow was already there, stroking himself, the wetness from his fingers and his own dripping cock slicking the way. This…wasn’t going to take much. “ _Fuck_ , Cloves, you’re so fucking hot like this. I love you so fucking much.”

Clover’s hand wrapped around his own, making quick work of him. In just a few strokes he was there, the world crashing down around him as Clover kissed him through the aftershocks. He collapsed, boneless, burying his head in the crook of Clover’s neck, just drowning in that sweet smell.

Beneath him, Clover seemed equally affected. He let out a little huff of shaky laughter. “ _Gods_ , Qrow, you…I can’t believe you just…you little shit.”

“You like it.” Qrow murmured into his skin, dopey smile hidden from view. 

Clover shuddered at the feel of his breath. Brothers, that might start them up all over again. Qrow pushed himself up, reluctantly. They were both kind of a mess.

By the time Qrow returned, damp washcloth in hand, Clover was already half asleep. Qrow said a prayer for sweet dreams as he tended to his boyfriend. For about the millionth time, he wondered what he had possibly done to deserve this man. It was still such a mystery, but a newfound stubbornness in his heart wouldn’t let him let go until Clover pushed him away.

The little voice in the back of his head chimed in that Clover had already tried to do exactly that, literally, twice, and Qrow had butted his way back in both times. And it would only be a matter of time until the third came around.

He took a deep breath, and told that voice to buzz off.

“I can hear you thinking.”

Seriously, did Clover have some kind of bell hooked to his brain? He rolled his eyes, crawling back into bed, a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s my line,” he repeated. Clover laughed, happy and open. The sound went straight to his heart.

“It’s mine now,” Clover said, reaching out. “C’mere.”

Qrow obliged. He was fine with that.

Clover could have _everything._

* * *

It was a miracle.

Qrow didn’t even _realize_ until he was woken up by the sounds of laughter and little feet running down the hallway. Sunlight was streaming in through the window, barely constrained by the curtains. He sat up, disoriented, and looked at the clock. It was almost eight. He could hear Val and Cedar trying to wrangle the kids into getting ready for school. He glanced back down at the man next to him.

Clover was _still sleeping_.

Qrow looked on in wonder. The omega was curled on his side, facing Qrow. A little smattering of bruises decorated his neck. The sheets were tangled around his waist. His hair was an absolute mess. His face was slack with sleep, content. He was actually drooling a little bit. It was the most beautiful thing Qrow had ever seen in his entire life.

He gently carded his hand through Clover’s hair, easing his bedhead as best he could. The omega stirred, mumbled something which sounded suspiciously like ‘ _Qrow,’_ then nestled further into the pillow. He leaned down, pressing a reverent kiss to Clover’s temple, then flopped back onto the bed, amazed.

Well. That was one way of doing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, I wrote this chapter _before_ writing the Bad Ending (which, if you have not yet seen, and want to just punish yourself, please check out!). But what a balm to my soul it was to edit this one, after.
> 
> The recipe for blondies is from the website Serious Eats, and it really is very easy and good!


	4. A Categorical Imperative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ebi Family Fight Club convenes. Clover asks the tough questions. Qrow does what he has to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I...say that these chapters would be shorter than the last fic? ahahahaha

_Dear Black Forest Cake,_

_You can tell me to shove it if you want, but I know it must be hard for you all to get certain supplies at the moment, and I suddenly find myself with a wealth of abundance. Feel free to share with Green Tea Mochi, though my hunch is he’s even further away from needing them than you are. I don’t know if you guys talk about stuff like that, but I’m starting to think it’s pretty useful._

_-Chocolate Croissant_

_[Attached: a small package labeled “ **FOR BLACK FOREST CAKE ONLY, DO NOT PEEK. EVEN YOU, VM** ”]_

_‘Sup Choc C,_

_BFC refuses to speak to you, but she says thanks. And…...….me too. A LOT. *wink*_

_-Hot Cross Guns_

_p.s. you can send more if you want_

_Uncle Chocolate Croissant,_

_I didn’t know we could send presents!!! Here are some cookies I made. Please tell me what you think. Baked Alaska said they were gross but I don’t know what she’s talking about._

_-Chocolate Chip Cookie_

_CC, I threw these out. BA is right. They were inedible, and not worth the fuel. Thank me later._

_-VM_

* * *

“You two are up late today. Again.”

Faye was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee when they entered. Cedar was at the counter, frantically packing lunches. She wasn’t wrong. Clover didn’t know what was happening with him, he hardly ever slept this late. This was the third time this week he’d missed his morning run.

Well. He had an inkling.

He gave Qrow a suspicious look. Qrow smirked, idly cracking his knuckles.

A flush crept up his neck. He turned away before his mind could go too far into the gutter, sticking his tongue out at Faye while Qrow poured their coffee. “You’re just jealous of my hot boyfriend.”

“He’s got a little too much alpha dick for my taste.” Faye shot back.

Qrow spilled coffee on the counter.

Clover didn’t _say_ what he wanted to say in response to that, but he definitely thought it. While looking at Qrow. Meaningfully.

“Faye, please. Language.” Cedar said.

Val blustered through then, tugging on her coat. She kissed Cedar on the mouth, then Clover on the cheek. “Love you, hon. Clo, I’ll see you later. Don’t forget.”

Clover rolled his eyes. “I won’t. Have fun at work.”

“Three more _fucking_ days!” she moaned. “Brothers, give me strength.”

She was really, really looking forward to maternity leave. Apparently. Cedar’s eye twitched but he said nothing.

Val pulled Qrow down so she could kiss his cheek as well. “Have fun playing with your sword, Qrow.”

They were…training today.

As the front door shut, Faye turned back to Cedar, who was looking at Qrow and gripping a butter knife with perhaps more force than necessary. “Language, huh? Coward. And what’s wrong with ‘dick’?”

Indeed. Clover waggled his eyebrows at Qrow. The alpha rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. He shoved Clover into his chair at the kitchen table, before going to make them breakfast. Clover let him. Qrow couldn’t cook, but he could pour cereal just fine. He looked good doing it, too.

“Brothers, Faye!” Cedar said, looking significantly from Faye to the kids, who were watching TV. In the next room.

“You want some fruit, Lucky Charm?” Qrow asked, pausing over the fruit bowl.

“They can’t hear me from there,” Faye protested. “Plus, I could have been talking about a person.”

“I’ll take a banana,” Clover said, grinning shamelessly.

Qrow snorted. “All right, smartass.”

Cedar glared. Qrow ducked his head. “Uh, sorry.”

“That’s another thing,” Cedar said, pointing at Qrow and then to Clover. “You two. Quit it. I don’t want my kids asking me what their Uncle Clover is…is…”

“Agreeing to?” Faye supplied.

Clover coughed. He did feel a bit bad about that. Cedar and Faye were one thing, but the kids were another.

“You said you slept with earplugs,” Qrow said, as he sliced bananas into their cereal. He looked a bit haunted.

Faye held her hands up. “Just messing with you, Qrow! I do,” she turned to Cedar. “And you should too. Honestly, I don’t hear anything. And the kids are up on the third floor, I don’t think it would travel that far. Val has that white noise thing. It’s literally just you, Ce.”

Qrow placed his cereal in front of him. He gave the alpha a grateful smile. Qrow bumped his shoulder, affectionately, as he sat down next to Clover.

“I can’t wear earplugs,” Cedar protested. “What if someone breaks in, in the middle of the night? I need to be able to hear. What if something happens to the kids? What if…if the fire alarm goes off? Or it _doesn’t_ go off, because it needs batteries and none of you will hear that annoying intermittent beep? And then there will be a fire.”

Clover and Faye exchanged looks. Ah, they were at _that_ stage of the pregnancy.

“I don’t know,” Faye said, rolling her eyes. “Maybe the gauntlet of three licensed Huntsmen and two flights of stairs between the front door and your kids will protect them.”

Cedar frowned. “Four. And two of them are _distracted by canoodling._ ”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t think I need to repeat the c-word.”

“No, the other part. _Four?”_

Cedar blustered, as he packed apple slices into the kids’ bags. “There are four licensed Huntsmen in this house. Unless…Oh Gods, Shrimp, did that bastard revoke your license?”

“ _What?_ ” Clover said.

“I’m sorry,” Faye snorted, “Were you counting _yourself_ in that tally, Ce?”

Clover turned to Qrow, blinking. “That couldn’t happen, right?”

His blood ran cold. James couldn’t…the administration at Atlas Academy had been entirely different when he’d graduated. His license wasn’t even up for _renewal_ for another three years. And James wouldn’t…there would have been no _reason_ to meddle with his license if he wasn’t even allowed to leave the _apartment_. Except he’d committed a crime, hadn’t he? Maybe it was automatic. But his license was global. Even in Atlas, there was at least a nod to the separation of Academies and the military. Omegas _could_ attend Atlas, not that many ever did. Certainly, none in Clover’s year. But it was possible–it was a stipulation of the other three schools. He hadn’t committed any crimes in Mistral. His license should still be active here, shouldn’t it? Unless James had pulled some strings, or…

Maybe James knew he’d escaped Atlas. And he had no money, of course he’d have to start taking jobs. Maybe James was trying to cut him off so he’d come crawling back, destitute, begging James to take him and–

“Breathe,” Qrow said, voice low. Clover did. Qrow rubbed his back, soothing. “Why don’t you just…check, okay?”

Cedar and Faye were still quibbling over Cedar’s fighting ability. Clover pulled out his scroll, heart pounding.

It was still active. No restrictions.

Clover let out a breath, relieved. He slumped over, sliding his scroll to Qrow as he leaned against the other man, boneless. “Brothers, that just gave me a heart attack,” he mumbled, as Qrow carded his hand through his hair.

“…and you know I could out- _fly_ you any day.”

“Sure, the one job where you get to sit on your ass, and…aww.”

Clover had his eyes closed, but he presumed she was staring at him. He gave her the middle finger.

“Daddy?” Bianca called, from the next room. “Are we not going to school today?”

Clover opened his eyes. Cedar looked at his watch. “Fuck! Shit. Fuck.”

He pointed at Clover and Qrow. “I have three minutes to get them out the door. You two can canoodle all you want if you help me _right now_.”

He and Qrow exchanged looks, before springing into action.

“What should I do?” Faye asked, as they hustled the kids into shoes and coats.

“You’re fine!” all three of them called.

* * *

Faye got hers back about an hour later, when they accompanied her to Sanctum to train.

Mistral was still short on Huntsmen after the attack on Haven. Ironically, for Clover and Faye, a lot of the responsibility for that apparently rested on the shoulders of one Tyrian Callows. So dozens of Huntsmen in Mistral were dead, but hey, at least two had been uprooted from other Kingdoms to fill in the gap.

Officially, Faye was serving as a “visiting lecturer” at Sanctum. A lot of the staff had moved to Haven to meet immediate needs, but they’d have a huge pipeline problem in a couple years if the combat schools fell too far behind. As much as she liked to tease him, it was good to see Faye come back. Sure, right now she was teaching part-time and sleeping on a couch in her childhood home, but he’d bet good money she would make it more permanent.

She’d do well, too. Faye was a tough but fair teacher. He knew that firsthand; she drilled him relentlessly when he was growing up. _Especially_ after he presented. They only just missed overlapping at the Academy; Cedar was two years older than Clover, and Faye two years older than Cedar. But she’d taken an extra year to TA at Atlas–quite possibly, though he’d never dared to ask, _primarily_ for Clover’s sake. If he’d known at the time she was going to bypass the military entirely and decamp for Vacuo the year after, he would have felt a lot less salty about it. 

“Your form’s off,” she called to him.

He could still feel salty now, though.

He grunted, irritated, while Qrow watched from the sidelines _._ This was no spar for fun against Team RWBY. This was a no-holds-barred match against a Huntress at the top of her game, who had four more years of field experience to call on. Faye had him on the defensive, even when he was doing _well._

If he could just get that damn axe out of her hands. He cast Kingfisher out, in a wide hook. She dodged, easily, charging into the obvious opening. He strafed to the side, swiftly ducking under her swings, using the distraction to retract his line. As she leapt up, Titania poised in a deadly arc, he slid underneath, making a wish.

Kingfisher curled around her, catching the head of her axe just as he rolled to a crouch and _yanked_. But instead of flying out of her hands, she caught the ends of its handle, using his strength against him to flip up and kick him in the chest.

It hit hard. His back slammed against the floor, his aura flickering. Just a matter of time, then, until she had her blade at his throat.

“Not bad,” she said. “You still rely on your semblance too much. And you’ve gotten sloppy, on top of that. But you’re a lot faster than you used to be.”

Well. He’d like to see _her_ keep her form tight after barely touching her weapon in the last two months.

“I think you remember what you have to say,” Faye taunted.

Clover rolled his eyes. “ _Faye._ Seriously?”

Titania held fast at his pulse point. Faye winked at him.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I just want everyone to know– “

“Louder.”

This was ridiculous. It was only Qrow in the practice room with them. This was _targeted._

Clover cleared his throat. “I just want everyone to know that I, Clover Ebi, am a big dumb baby.”

He heard a snort behind him. He dared not look at Qrow.

“And?” Faye prompted.

“And,” he continued, “I love to cry, and drink my ba-ba, and poopy in my pants. Are you happy?”

Faye grinned, swinging her axe up so it rested on her shoulder. She looked immensely like Elm, in that posture. “Peachy,” she said.

She collapsed her weapon and offered him her hand, which he waved away. His head clouded, despite himself. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. Faye had wiped the floor with him hundreds of times. But for some reason _this one_ stung.

“You boys wanna take a mission, or what?” Faye asked.

They hadn’t yet. Since they’d been here. Clover had been so focused on slotting into Cedar and Val’s lives, it hadn’t occurred to him to get in there with Faye. It was habit, he supposed. He was normally in Argus on vacation, with the express purpose of sweeping in as the fun uncle who gave everyone around him a break. Cedar and Val needed a lot of help around the home, but almost none having to do with Grimm.

And now…Qrow was here, too.

He chanced a look at the alpha. Qrow was studying him with amusement. “That’s, uh, an interesting little ritual you guys have.”

Some of the tension in his chest eased. He shrugged, rolling his eyes again. “Family, y’know.”

A conflicted look passed over Qrow’s face. “Yeah…”

Fuck. Foot, meet mouth.

“Well?” Faye called, oblivious. She was standing in front of the mission board, expectantly.

Before Clover could say anything, Qrow was striding over, shoulders hunched. “What do you think, Lucky Charm? You up for it?”

“I…” Clover paused. He wandered over, feeling out his aura. Even though he’d just gotten his ass handed to him by Faye, he felt fine going against the Grimm. It was just…

“Which one are you taking?” he asked Faye. “Maybe we’ll just…tag along.”

Faye looked at him, strangely. “Three people on a one-person job? It’ll be a cakewalk, Shrimp.”

Right. She was right. It was just that Clover…

His scroll chirped. He pulled it out.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed. “My appointment, I totally forgot.”

Of course, his biology would interrupt his career. Because when did it not.

“Are you late?” Qrow asked.

Clover shook his head. Val, correctly and irritatingly anticipating his distraction, had sent a reminder text. He had just enough time make it to the hospital. He waffled. He really didn’t want to go. Maybe he could just skip it. But then he’d have to put his name on that board.

Ugh.

“No, not yet, but I have to leave now,” he said, holstering Kingfisher.

“You want us to wait for you?”

Too late. Clover was already halfway out the door. “Nah, don’t bother. You two…do whatever.”

“Cloves– “

He all but sprinted from the training room, his heart pounding. Just the thought of the mission board looming, the name and location of every Huntress and Hunstman proudly displayed, sent a curl of anxiety through his stomach.

Would James be… _looking_ for him?

* * *

His brain couldn’t catch a break. He could stand at the mission board at Sanctum, thinking about James, or he could sit mortified on an exam table and think about _himself._ This was…the lesser of two evils, he supposed.

“Well, Clover, I can’t say I’m not pleased that you’re considering a less restrictive form of birth control.”

Clover was pretty sure you still needed to have sex to get pregnant, so he was pretty pleased with his life choices thus far. It wasn’t so much that he’d been trying to avoid having children, though that was a bonus for sure. It was that the thing that _lead_ to childbirth would get him sent to a reformatory. Where he did not want to be.

Argus was different, though. While there were pockets of more pronounced Atlesian culture, they were easy enough to avoid if you wanted to. More than anything, people were just more relaxed, here. Born and bred Mistralians didn’t really know or care what it was like, in Atlas.

Which is why his doctor in Argus consistently referred to his heat suppressants as _birth control_ , and not a life-saving necessity that he needed to be on, all the time, and if not that then as much as possible, thank you very much.

Dr. Venus Venticordia was an ancient omega, with wavy bone-white hair pulled back into a low ponytail. It was Val, actually, who got him to start seeing her. When he was younger, his father had been the one to supply him with suppressants through…gods only knew what channels. After a few excruciating handoffs, they’d both learned it was much easier if his father simply left the pills in his nightstand in his childhood home, for him to retrieve as needed. He never saw a single doctor.

He found out the hard way that he had to take breaks between courses, when at 21 his suppressants just…stopped working. He spent a miserable week locked in his cramped quarters, delirious, emerging severely dehydrated but otherwise untouched. Val was the first person he called.

She had no idea about his dynamic. She and Cedar had only been dating for about a year, at that point. But her and Ce had grown up together, had kept in contact through the years, and Val was studying medicine in Atlas while Cedar worked his way up the ranks. She was one of the few people Clover knew who _wasn’t_ in the military, and more importantly wasn’t from Atlas, and who also might have an inkling of what it was Clover was supposed to _do._ He hadn’t even told _Cedar_ about the heat, he was so wracked with shame and embarrassment. When he finally spat it out to Val, it took her a good few tries to figure out what he was actually even saying.

“I just…I don’t know why it’s not working anymore,” he’d said, barely holding back tears. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me? Did I mess something up? Or is that supposed to happen? I just…I just really _don’t_ want to do that, again. It was _awful_.”

His stomach twisted with anxiety. If he couldn’t stop the heats then what would happen to him? He could hardly eat. He still felt so strung out. He’d tried taking more suppressants but he had no idea if they were doing anything. He was afraid to leave the house, in case someone smelled it on him. Maybe he’d been hanging around that alpha in his unit too much. This was all his fault. He could only imagine what his father would say if he found out.

Val just gave him a sad smile, taking his trembling hands in hers.

“Oh, Clo…” she said. She’d taken to calling him that. The three of them hung out so often. And still he was sure she would be disgusted with him. 

She brushed the hair back from his face. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I’m sorry you had to go through that, alone. It sounds terrible.”

It was then that he knew that if Cedar didn’t marry this woman, he was the biggest idiot on Remnant.

“Now,” she said. “As a practical matter, I’m not a doctor yet. And even if I was, I’m not _your_ doctor, and it would be unethical for me to give you specific medical advice.”

His heart sunk. “But…what am I supposed to _do?”_

She squeezed his hand. “We find you a doctor, is all.”

She might as well have told him to stitch up the moon. But such was Valerie Su; she never proposed something impossible without a plan for how to get it done.

Enter Dr. Venticordia, a family friend of the Sus, who had actually delivered both Val and her sister. She was also something of a career mentor to Val. And she was an omega, which Val seemed to think was important. The only problem was that she practiced exclusively in Argus. It was good news for his secret, but bad for logistics.

That first trip to Argus had been harrowing. One stop at the Comm tower and Val convinced Dr. V to see him right away, on a Saturday even. But she also made him tell Cedar. Clover doused himself in scent blockers, the three of them spent a nerve-wracking transport ride over, and then he was in relatively safe hands.

Dr. V was shrewd in her assessment of him, sensing the trauma that lingered just under the surface–even though he hadn’t told Val about _that_. She didn’t push him too hard, offering to have someone present during the exam. He said no, at first, mortified at the idea of having family or a _complete stranger_ present for such a humiliating experience. But as soon as it came time to scooch down the table he’d locked up, terrified. He couldn’t go until Cedar was there, holding his hand, coaching him to breathe. He felt so ashamed at his behavior, the whole time. Dr. V. seemed to understand, though. She met him where he was at.

It had been that way ever since. Clover was lucky he was so l _ucky_ , because he spent virtually all of his medical leave over the years on unnecessarily long trips to Argus, for heats or for checkups or for more drugs. And while Dr. V was an excellent doctor, Clover _hated_ these visits. The exams were invasive, the questions too prying, and Dr. V herself was so loosey-goosey about sex that it made him squirm with discomfort. He mostly tried to get through them as fast as possible, by giving away as little information as he could.

So it had been a couple years. Clover couldn’t say he’d missed her.

“Have you noticed an increase in your sex drive, since you stopped suppressing your heats? That’s quite common.”

“I…guess so.” He mumbled.

The answer was actually, enthusiastically, ‘yes,’ but it probably had more to do with having constant access to Qrow, whenever he wanted it. Which he did. All the time.

“Great!” Dr. V chirped. “That means the side effects don’t appear to be permanent. Looks like you didn’t mess yourself up too bad, kid.”

Clover sighed. There _was_ one thing he wanted to ask. “About that,” he started. Dr. V looked up from her clipboard, waiting. “Is it possible…I mean, is one of the side effects…I just feel like my senses are heightened, ever since I stopped. Especially in combat. Is that…normal?”

Dr. V considered it. “Well, there have been a few studies, but not enough evidence that I can say conclusively one way or the other. Omega hormones are understudied as a general rule. Among Huntsmen, even more so. But anecdotally, I’d say the majority of Huntsmen and Huntresses prefer birth control with predictable heats over suppressing them completely. It makes sense, if you think about the secondary purpose of those drugs. Hormones convey a lot more information than just sex.”

He thought as much. It was a little upsetting how much better he felt now, how much sharper and in tune with his instincts he was. Apparently, he’d been working with a handicap for the last 17 years.

Of course, then there was the other side. What if he was in a bad position, when his heat came around? Where he couldn’t just stop and drop everything to have sex for three days? Even without Salem, it seemed like a wildly indulgent prospect.

Dr. V shrugged. “Your mileage may vary, obviously. But I can say from personal experience that the heats are pretty fun if you’re not worried about getting knocked up.”

Clover made a face.

Dr. V barked out a laugh. “Okay, you finally ready to listen to me, kid? I’m old. Indulge me. Ask me anything.”

Clover sighed. Ugh, this was unbearable.

“I’ve suppressed my heats all my life. And I thought I liked that person that I was just fine. And now that I’ve stopped, I…it’s like I see that there could be something more. But I don’t know that I’ll always have the luxury of being able to _have_ heats. There are…larger forces, at play.”

Dr. V sighed. “Well, that’s the tradeoff, isn’t it? These drugs were meant to be temporary fixes, for extraordinary circumstances. Not everyday life.”

Clover blinked, surprised. “Really?”

Dr. V nodded. “Really. Your heats are part of being an omega. To deny them is to deny a part of yourself. Look, kid. I’ve seen plenty of patients go on the same drugs you did, for longer, for much stupider reasons. You’re not alone. But you also wouldn’t be alone if you chose the more balanced path. And I don’t know squat about Huntsmen, so take this with a grain of salt, but I have a hunch you’d be just as good at your job with heats, as you would without, even if it means a bit more careful scheduling.”

“Do you think the heats themselves would be different? In terms of how bad they are.”

Clover’s heats were…they were just awful. He could count his total number of heats on both hands, and each and every one had been at least some degree of miserable. The thought of having them every _three months_ was daunting. He thought of the timeline, for Salem. He’d likely have several, before she was defeated.

“Possibly,” Dr. V said. “And you’ve had a history of…quite severe side effects. I suspect they would be milder, on a less restrictive hormonal regimen, but I can’t say for sure. Again, this is understudied.”

She peered at him over her glasses. “Figuring out what works for you is gonna require some trial and error. And it sounds like you have a bit of time on your hands, to try things.”

Huh. He hadn’t thought about it like that, before.

“All right, kid,” Dr. V said. “What else you got? You wanna know about orgasms?”

Clover died, a little.

* * *

He met Val for lunch after. While there were plenty of quick and cheap places near the hospital where staff liked to go, she dragged him all the way to the market district so that she could watch him eat sushi.

“What about sea urchin, do you want an order of that, too?”

He was gonna get fat if he kept eating like this. And if he kept skipping runs. Though he supposed he’d taken on some…additional activities, to compensate.

“Val, I’m only one person,” he said. The enormous plate in front of him was plenty. Val watched him enviously as he dipped a piece of tuna in soy sauce.

She was really counting down the days until the baby came. When she was pregnant with Rafe she made him order raw oysters at every meal just so she could live vicariously through him. Not that Clover had complained. Especially if Val was paying.

“What about a glass of sake, then? Or a cocktail? They have this yuzu lemon drop that– “

“It’s one in the afternoon!” he protested. Clover hadn’t been a big drinker even before meeting Qrow. It was easy to give it up entirely; he wasn’t crazy about the loss of control. He certainly wasn’t about to have hard liquor in the middle of the day.

Especially if he wanted to do the thing he was thinking about doing.

She sighed, sitting back and poking at her rice with her chopsticks. “Never have kids, Clo. It’s torture.”

Clover was fine with that, for now. He idly rubbed his arm, feeling the little bump of the implant. It hadn’t hurt at all, surprisingly.

“Val?” he asked, over dessert. They were sharing a slice of cheesecake. At least this, they could both have. “How did you know you were…”

She blinked. “Pregnant? I had a lot of sex, and then I threw up.”

Clover snorted. “That’s not what I was gonna…never mind.”

How did she know she was in love, he wanted to ask. Because his brain simply could not tackle one problem today without dragging all the rest up with it. It was like trying to pluck a paperclip from a cluttered drawer.

Sometimes it felt like Qrow Branwen had been specifically engineered by scientists to drive him absolutely, ridiculously, over the moon nutty with desire. His crimson eyes, his dark hair streaked with gray, his pale skin. His lean muscle, the low scratch of his voice, the calloused hands that touched him _everywhere_. And the way he looked at Clover, like all of life’s great mysteries could be solved if he could just get Clover to smile, or laugh, or come.

The cherry on top was Qrow’s love. Qrow _loved_ him.

Those three little words, uttered by Qrow, were the most potent aphrodisiac known to mankind. It was like someone had all of a sudden waltzed into Clover’s life and immediately given him everything he’d ever wanted.

Time to try things, indeed.

“I saw the way he treated you,” Val said.

Clover looked up, confused. Was she talking about…no. Right. His question.

She was giving him a considering look. “I was worried that maybe Atlas would change him, make him cold. But then I saw the way he was around you. Especially…that time that you came to me. I saw the way he looked out for you. And I knew he’d be a good and loving husband and father.”

She smiled, idly rubbing her stomach. “I’m proud to say I was right. Love and hormones can be confusing, Clo. But if you look at the way someone treats _other_ people, that’s when you see their true self.”

Huh.

They took a cable car back up to the hospital. As he walked her to the entrance, she paused, pulling something out of her purse.

“Oh! I almost forgot. I got you something. To tide you over.”

She handed him a little bag, from the pharmacy. Clover looked inside. His whole face went red.

“Val,” he said, shocked. “How much do you think we can possibly– “

She waved him off. “Baby brain, sorry. Meant to give you those as soon as you got into town.”

Val pulled him down so she could kiss his cheek, then turned to go inside.

“Maybe keep it down, though?” she called, over her shoulder. “I’m kind of attached to that loving husband and father. It’d be a shame for him to die of an aneurysm.”

* * *

Clover walked back to Sanctum, both to work off the heavy lunch and to give himself time to think.

The halls were quiet, with classes in session. The practice room was empty. Faye had texted him that she was giving an impromptu weapons demo to some students. Qrow was probably with her, then. He was certainly an expert in that area. Clover studied the mission board. What would he do, if they were still in Atlas? If this were his team?

“Hey, Lucky Charm.”

Clover turned. Qrow was leaning in the doorway, studying him.

“Hey,” he said.

Qrow came up behind him. “Everything go okay?”

Clover nodded, turning back to the board. “Yeah, no problems.” He paused. “I…why’d you become a Huntsman?”

He couldn’t believe they’d never talked about it, before. He knew some of Qrow’s past, in the bandit tribe, but the details of the transition were fuzzy. Qrow inhaled, sharply. Clover felt a pang of regret, like he’d dug too deep. But Qrow took a few deep breaths, then spoke.

“I didn’t mean to, when we started. Raven and I…the tribe sent us to Beacon. To learn how to _kill_ Huntsmen. So we could return, stronger. Deadlier.”

Clover blinked, shocked. He had no idea it had been like that.

Qrow sighed. “And then we met Summer. And Tai. And we were…we were _really good_ , as a team. It felt right. For once I was actually _helping_ people, instead of hurting them with my misfortune. And Oz…he believed in me. He brought us in on Salem, and it started to feel like there was a bigger purpose, there. He helped me see there was another path.”

He shrugged, helplessly. “I took it. Raven didn’t.”

“Qrow…”

The alpha shook his head. “I was naïve, in a lot of ways. Especially over Oz. But this is my life, now. Ask me a couple months ago and you might have got a different answer, but now? I can’t _not_ do it.”

They stood in silence for a bit. Clover turned back to the mission board.

“You think James would try to revoke my license? Or…use it to track me down?”

Qrow sighed. “I wish I knew, Lucky Charm.”

They had been friends once, hadn’t they? Qrow and James? Back before everything went sideways, before James’s paranoia got the best of him. It still amazed him, even though it shouldn’t, how a person that you thought you knew could turn in ways so completely counter to who you thought they were. It could twist your mind, to think about it. To anticipate betrayal from everyone around you, and strategically avoid the worst of the hurt. He didn’t like the feeling at all.

Where would it stop, if he kept running? How much would he be willing to give up?

He reached out. Qrow took his hand. “I’m still scared, Qrow,” he said. “I wish I wasn’t but I am.”

Qrow sighed, rubbing Clover’s hand with his thumb. “I am, too.”

Now that he’d said it, the choice was clear.

“Okay,” Clover said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s take a mission.”

“Cloves, we don’t have to, if you’re not ready.”

He shook his head. “No, I…” he paused. “I have to. I can’t shape my life around him. I don’t _want_ to. You’re right, this is…this is _who I am_. It’s not just…James was my friend for ten years. I need to believe the best in him, so I can move on.”

He squared his shoulders, determined. “But if he does try to come after me, I’ll fight him.”

Qrow squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

Something deep within his chest clenched, overwhelming.

“Good,” he said. Tears stung at his eyes. “Because I don’t want to.”

He tugged Qrow in for a kiss. It was soft, gentle. He tried to push everything he couldn’t say into it. To show Qrow how much it meant, that he was here. That he even existed.

Eventually, they pulled apart. Clover dabbed at his eyes. He was turning into such a sap.

Qrow cleared his throat. He jerked his head toward the mission board. “So, uh…what were you thinking?”

Clover stood back, hands on his hips. A plan was coming together, in his mind. “If I know Faye, she’s been taking the flashy ones. Everyone still here is. It’s not a bad instinct, with limited resources. But look,”

He pulled up a Search and Rescue posting. “Here’s a supply truck that went missing on its way to one of the villages. This has been up here for weeks. They’ve gotta be feeling the loss pretty bad by now. And here,” he pulled up an Escort job. “No one’s been able to go out with the boats, so they’ve been staying in port. That’s half the economy, here. If people get anxious over money and food, it’s just going to pull in more Grimm.”

Realization dawned on Qrow’s face. “You want us to take the boring jobs.”

Clover nodded. “I think we can make it through a bit of the backlog. Just to make things a little easier for everyone. I mean, I want to still have time to…” he paused. “I don’t get a chance to see my family that often. And I’m still…not at the top of my game. I know that probably wasn’t what you had in mind, but I think we have a chance to help a couple people, while we’re here.”

“No, it’s…it’s a good balance,” Qrow said. “All right. Where do we start?”

“These two,” Clover said. “Tomorrow. I’ll take the boats, if you don’t mind. More my area than yours. I’ll go with them in the morning. You do the recon for the supply truck, then call me for help with the recovery.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Qrow said, giving him a little smile. “So, tomorrow, huh?”

Clover nodded, tapping at his scroll. The board updated, with their names assigned to the two tasks. This is where they would be, tomorrow. This is what they’d be doing. He took in the sight.

It was done.

“What do you want to do, the rest of the day?”

“I was thinking of asking you to fuck me.”

Clover waited as long as he could before looking at Qrow, just enjoying the way his scent spiked. Slowly, he turned his head. The alpha’s eyes were wide, equal parts shock and desire. Clover looked him up and down, taking in every detail. Finally, he locked eyes with the other man.

“I know I’ve just been going on about how I want to help people. But I’m also on vacation. And I’m not blind, and I’m not dead. In fact, I…I feel so alive, when I’m around you. And all I’ve been able to think about, all day, is what it might feel like to have you inside me.”

He stepped closer, breathing in. He could feel the warmth radiating from Qrow’s body. Gods, just thinking about it was already getting him so…

“ _Clover…_ ”

Ugh, and that _voice._ He gripped the lapels of Qrow’s coat, bringing their bodies flush. His mouth hovered over the alpha’s, as he gazed into crimson eyes.

“What do you…think about that? Qrow?”

The alpha surged forward, bringing their lips together. Clover whined into his mouth, his whole body singing with desire. Qrow’s hands were all over him, pulling him close, clawing at his back, pulling him in by the waist, wandering lower to grab his ass.

Clover pulled back, breathless. “So is that a yes? You’re gonna have to say it.”

Qrow _growled._ “You’re gonna have to actually ask.”

He dipped down, nipping at Clover’s neck. Clover yelped.

“ _Qrow!_ I…please, Qrow, I want you to– “

“Gods, get a room, you two! There are kids here who could walk in!”

They froze. As one, they turned toward the door, where Faye was shielding her eyes.

Clover looked at Qrow, sheepishly. “Race you back to the– _Qrow!”_

Qrow bent down, picking Clover up by the waist and slinging him over his shoulder as if he were Harbinger. It was probably the hottest thing anyone had ever done to him.

“Wait!” he called, as Qrow stalked toward the door. “My bag– “

“Leave it.”

“It’s _pretty important_!” Clover insisted.

“Here, I can…” Faye plucked the little bag from the corner of the room. “Here’s your, uh…”

“Don’t look inside!” Clover warned. She handed him the bag, gingerly. Qrow pinched his ass, and he laughed, squirming, as Qrow carried him out.

“Don’t come home for a while, okay?” he called to Faye.

She grumbled, as they left the room. She sounded just like Cedar.

* * *

It took them a while to get back to the house.

Qrow only carried him the edge of campus, or else he probably would have passed out from the rush of blood to his head. But then they had to pause for a bit, for Clover to catch his bearings. And to make out like teenagers.

And then again, on the corner of Sixth and Market.

And one more time, on Tenth and Fillmore.

Qrow was really a very distracting person.

When they finally made it into the bedroom, clothes flying everywhere, it was all he could do not to just climb on top of Qrow and ride him into the mattress.

In fact, he was trying to do just that when Qrow cursed, pushing himself up on his elbows.

“Shit! I forgot…we didn’t get– “

Clover shook his head, trying to grind down his hips against Qrow’s. The alpha held him in place. “Not a problem. Taken care of.”

He leaned down for a kiss. Qrow ducked away from his lips, doubtful. “Does it…work that fast?”

Clover shook his head again, panting as he straightened. “No, there’s a lead time. But I have–Val gave me, uh…”

Apparently, that was all the go ahead Qrow needed. He yelped, as Qrow slipped a finger inside of him. He couldn’t think of the word. He snapped his fingers, pointing at the bag on the nightstand. “Can you get– “

“My hands are a little busy, Cloves.” Qrow said, teasing.

Well. That was true. Clover leaned forward, which only allowed Qrow better access. His hand stuttered over the bag, as he bit back a moan. “ _Fuck,_ Qrow, that feels so fucking good, I want to feel you so bad.”

“Focus,” Qrow rumbled.

Right. Bag. He grasped it with his fingertips and pulled it closer, upending the contents on the bed next to them. An absolute cascade of Alpha/Omega condoms poured out.

“How–” Qrow started, shocked. “How long is the lead time?”

“Seven days.”

They both considered the pile. There were _dozens_.

It was hard not to see it as a challenge, really.

Qrow laughed hysterically, tossing his head back. “You’re killing me,” he moaned. “I swear to the Brothers, Cloves, you are gonna _kill me_ and I’m gonna _die.”_

“I could make a schedule,” Clover offered, lining up their cocks and taking them both in his hand. It was a clear exaggeration; there was no way they would go through them all. Not if they were going to take missions…or sleep, or eat. But it _was_ tempting to try.

Qrow groaned, reaching between them to still Clover’s hand. “I’m not gonna make it that far if you keep doing that, you little…”

“Then stop taking so long,” Clover countered, wiggling. Qrow growled, adding another finger. Clover moaned at the stretch, as Qrow opened him up. “I wasn’t aware that scheduling got you so– _fuck_ , Qrow!”

Qrow hit that spot inside of him, that made him see stars.

“More,” he panted, “I can take it, I need…”

He let out a truly obscene noise as Qrow added a third finger, shameless. If he was going to have to start keeping a lid on it, he needed to get all of this out of his system while he still could. Or maybe that would only make it harder to restrain himself, down the line. Whatever, it felt _amazing._

“ _Gods,_ Lucky Charm,” Qrow moaned. “You’re so…if you could see what you look like right now…”

“Yeah?” he said, wanton. It was thrilling, to have all this attention on him.

Qrow hit that spot, again, and Clover cried out. He reached over, grabbing one of the condoms and ripping it from its wrapper. He sat back, biting his lip at the feel of Qrow working him open, as he rolled it down over Qrow’s member. Qrow gasped, at the press of his hands.

“I’m ready for you, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Qrow asked.

“ _Qrow,”_ he pleaded. Qrow obliged, helping him line himself up with the tip of Qrow’s cock. “I…it’s been a while, okay? Is it okay if I…?”

“Take your time,” Qrow said, though he looked like he was struggling. Gods, the thought that he had this kind of effect on this man…

He paused, feeling the blunt head of Qrow’s cock resting at his slick entrance. Then so, so slowly, he began to lower himself down. At first it was…he had to breathe through it. Qrow massaged his thighs, encouraging. He could feel every _inch_ of Qrow.

He paused, catching his breath. Qrow took his hand.

“You’re doing good, Lucky Charm. You feel so good, so tight. You’re doing so– _fuck!”_

The last, as Clover sunk down the rest of the way in one push, sheathing himself fully. They both paused, then, to catch their breath. Clover squeezed Qrow’s hand in a vice grip.

“We are gonna…work on your impulse control, at some point, Cloves.” Qrow murmured, voice tight.

“You like it,” he teased, breathless. Slowly, he started to move.

It was the strangest thing. Clover had only ever done this a couple times, outside his heats. They had been, necessarily, rather anonymous affairs. This was different. He was fully present in the moment. And he felt like he was in _control_ of the experience, instead of just holding on for the ride. In fact, he was…

He looked down at Qrow, beneath him. He leaned down, bracing himself on his elbows, pushing the hair back from Qrow’s forehead as he leaned in for a kiss. Qrow planted his feet on the mattress and held his hips, snapping his own up to make Clover cry out. The pace quickened. Clover was close.

“ _Qrow,”_ he whined. “Fuck, that’s… _yes.”_

The change in angle had Qrow hitting that spot, every single time. It was so deliciously _intense._ He reached a hand down, touching himself.

“You can do it, Cloves, come for me, okay?” Qrow muttered. “I want to feel you. You’re so fucking tight, you feel so good around me.”

He could feel Qrow’s knot start to grow. Gods, it felt good, so intense and full. With one last stroke of his cock he came, crying out. Qrow gripped his hips _hard_ , driving home, and then he was right there, with Clover. He could feel Qrow’s knot swell, inside of him, overwhelming.

He was trying to breathe but it was so…it was too…Qrow stroked his thighs, the small of his back, easing him through it. It was possibly the most intense orgasm of his entire life.

When he came down he was panting, Qrow sheathed solidly inside of him, and Clover’s seed spread across their bodies. It was…kind of filthy, and he loved it. Qrow swiped a hand over his stomach, making him shiver, and licked Clover’s come from his hand.

He was scandalized. “Did you just… _Qrow.”_

“You like it,” Qrow countered, repeating the motion on his own body. Clover huffed out a laugh.

Qrow pulled him down into a kiss, and he collapsed, easily. _Gods_ , he could taste himself on Qrow’s mouth. “I love you,” Qrow mumbled, into his neck.

“I… _Qrow, I…_ ”

He hoped that said it well enough: _I trust you. I want you. I believe in you. You make me believe in myself. I feel safe with you. I want to be with you all the time. You’re the best person I know._

It wasn’t quite…but maybe it was. Maybe Clover just didn’t really know what he was talking about, anymore. Maybe it would be that, someday, given the time and attention to bloom.

“I know,” Qrow murmured. He held Clover, his hands soothing sore muscles. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Cool, I have this really sweet ending for the chapter in mind.
> 
> Clover: I........have a different idea. How about I get laid instead?


	5. Just Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qrow takes his time. Clover is (not) baby. The kids' table is where it's at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been giving all these big-ass chapters to Clover, so now here's one for Qrow.

_Dear Stupid,_

_I bet you think you’re slick, leaving us to babysit all these kids while you cuddle up to your boyfriend. Joke’s on you; yesterday I threw knives at them for an hour. My eyes may be lost but my arm is still good. I think they liked it, though. They kept screaming. That means it’s working!_

_As for your question…who can say? Banana Cream Pie (I agree that this convention is idiotic, but he picked that one himself) says he’s never seen the man like this. In my day if someone came for you like that you were free to just stab them. Apparently, you kids are too “sentimental” for that. Make no mistake, though; a life taken nonviolently is still a threat to your life. The Grimm are not the only darkness, out there._

_Anyway, how’s the sex? Good? Make sure when you [REDACTED] that you don’t just jump into [REDACTED]. Actually, it’s kind of fallen by the wayside, but I’ve always been a fan of [REDACTED]. Young people always think they have to make it so complicated. All you need to do is [REDACTED] his [REDACTED] and he’ll [REDACTED] just like that. Bingo bango bongo._

_Enjoy it while you can! When you’re my age you’ll need a lot more [REDACTED]._

_-Still Waiting On Those Cashews_

_(I cannot believe I had to read this. Several parts of this letter had to be censored out of respect for Chocolate Croissant. I will speak to Pan de Muerto about this later. -VM)_

_Vanilla Macaron,_

_I appreciate your discretion._

_-Ham and Cheese Croissant_

_[The following letter unsent, ripped in many pieces and discarded in the Argus base]_

_Ok but...what did she say, though???_

_-CC_

* * *

Qrow quickly realized, once they got to Atlas, that if they wanted anything from James it was a lot easier to go through Clover Ebi first. He’d never actually _met_ Jimmy’s little gang of enforcers; Ozpin had a hunch, years ago, that the man was gathering some kind of elite squad outside of the normal command structure. But whatever it was they did, they kept it in Atlas. Qrow was too busy spying on Salem and keeping track of the maidens to deal with Atlas’s internal affairs. It wasn’t his problem.

Until it was. So it was a surprise when, face down in the streets of Mantle, hands tied behind his back, the most gods-damned gorgeous man he’d ever seen in his life taunted him with a spinning horseshoe. As he leaned down, plucking Qrow’s weapon from the ground, something electric passed between them.

Qrow wasn’t particular about dynamics. He’d even give the occasional Alpha a tumble. It’s not like it would last for more than a night, anyway. But Clover Ebi…for a beta, the guy smelled _good_. Qrow couldn’t put his finger on _why_ , exactly–just that he liked it.

So Ebi was a beta, he was the leader of the Ace Operatives, and he’d apparently known James for years, though Qrow had never heard of him. If Oz ever knew about him, there was no way to ask now. He supposed James wasn’t much for personal talk, anyway. But this Ebi guy apparently had the ear of the General in a way that even Ice Queen didn’t.

Which was good, because Qrow didn’t want to owe her any favors, if he didn’t have to.

Except he kind of hated Ebi, too. Especially at first.

That first night, everyone was so exhausted. Qrow was in a foul mood. All he wanted was some sleep and a drink–he _wasn’t going to do_ the second, and he couldn’t do the first until he took care of this thing.

He burst into James’s office without warning. James and his wonder boy were leaned over the desk, poring over the Amity plans, James facing the door and Ebi…well. It wasn’t so much that Qrow had a good view of his ass, since his stupid butt-cape covered it. But Qrow could get the general feel of the land. And the position alone was…inspiring. His mouth dried up immediately.

It had been a little while, is all.

“Uh,” he said, intelligently.

James looked up. “Qrow, can I help you?”

Ebi looked over his shoulder, questioning. He was still bent over, one hand braced on the desk. Qrow ripped his gaze away, embarrassed.

“Uh, the kids,” he tried again. “They’re all in different rooms. They’d prefer to sleep together. Er, I mean, in the same room. As their teammates.”

James frowned. “It’s the protocol to split by dynamic, here at Atlas. It would be…highly unusual to have alphas and omegas sharing the same room, regardless of team affinity. I’m sorry, Qrow, the room assignments stand.”

“The protocol is stupid,” Qrow spat, frustrated. Honestly, Atlas was the worst. “They’re already used to sharing rooms. It’s what they did at Beacon. Blake and Ren are fine with it.”

Actually, Qrow was certain that they preferred it. The plaintive looks Blake and Yang had given him at the thought of being separated had sent him over here in a blind rage.

“Are you sure?”

Qrow blinked, surprised. Ebi had straightened, and turned to lean against the desk facing Qrow, arms crossed. Qrow tried not to get distracted by his biceps.

“Sorry?”

“They might not tell you, if they were uncomfortable with it,” Ebi said. “You’re an alpha, after all. And so is Ms. Xiao Long, if I recall? Your niece?”

Qrow reconsidered Ironwood’s toy soldier. He had a kind of gentle concern about him, his green eyes studying Qrow. But the implication chafed.

“Exactly what is _that_ supposed to mean?” he growled, stepping forward.

The beta put his hands up, placating. “Nothing personal, sorry. Just that even well-intentioned alphas can get…carried away.”

Case in point, here he was acting like a knothead. Gods, he needed a drink. Qrow took a deep breath, calming himself. He wasn’t gonna do that.

“Look,” he said, sighing. “If I’m so intimidating or whatever, you wanna talk to them yourself?”

Ebi burst into a million-lien smile, pushing away from the desk. “Great!” He turned to James, jerking his thumb toward the door. The change in attitude gave Qrow whiplash. “I can run down there and check with the teams. Shouldn’t take long.”

“Clover…” James cautioned, clearly skeptical. Gods, the man had a stick up his ass.

“What good is it being the headmaster if you can’t relax the protocol?” Ebi said.

James sighed. “Very well, I trust your judgement on this. Come back here when you’re done?”

“Yes, sir.”

And just like that the other man clapped a hand around Qrow’s shoulders, leading them out. Qrow shrugged him off, grumbling. Everything was so much fucking harder than it had to be, with Atlesians. Apparently, the road to James’s good favor led straight through this bootlicker.

“I hope you’ll forgive the General,” Ebi said, as they walked. “He’s actually quite progressive on omega issues. He just needs a little push, when it comes to rocking the boat.”

Qrow snorted. James was progressive the way most people flossed their teeth. He liked the idea of it, but not enough to actually do anything.

“Yeah, well, progressive for Atlas is backwards, for the rest of the world,” he snapped. This guy had just accused Yang of being some kind of rapist or something. He could fuck right off. “Good job kissing his ass, by the way. Played right to his ego, Ebi.”

“Clover.”

“What?”

“You can call me Clover.”

Qrow stared. The other man winked at him. “I’m not that into titles. Besides, there’s too many Ebis in the military. Gets confusing.”

“Why am I not surprised.” Qrow said, flat.

Ebi– _Clover_ –chuckled, spinning around to walk backwards, facing Qrow. If he tried that he’d be on his ass in two seconds flat. Qrow hoped that Clover would be.

“Oh, you should’ve heard us around the holidays, growing up. ‘Lieutenant Ebi, please pass the potatoes.’ ‘Certainly, Colonel Ebi.’ ‘Specialist Ebi, did you make this pie?’ ‘Yes ma’am, it’s chocolate.’” Clover laughed, shaking his head. “You just start calling everyone ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ at some point.”

“Cute,” Qrow said. It wasn’t.

The beta frowned at his curt tone. Annoyingly, he hadn’t run into anything yet. And they’d taken several turns. Qrow wondered why his semblance chose _now_ to not butt in.

“Look, I’m sorry if I offended you earlier,” Clover said. “I really didn’t mean anything personal.”

“Of course not,” Qrow muttered. “First you and your team arrest us like criminals, then you accuse my niece of taking advantage of her teammate.”

Clover’s eyes went wide. “That’s not what I– “

“I don’t get you Atlas types,” Qrow interrupted. “You’ve seen the security footage, you know Blake and Ren can fight. If someone were trying to push them into something, you really think they wouldn’t be able to handle them?”

Clover paused, long enough for Qrow to outpace him. He deliberately bumped the other man’s shoulder as he stalked past.

“You’d be surprised,” Clover said, jogging to catch up. He pulled up even with Qrow, walking forward like a normal person. There was something off about him…a bitter note to his voice. Qrow absolutely refused to feel bad.

They didn’t talk, the rest of the way. If Qrow wasn’t so distracted by his anger and his exhaustion and the call for a stiff drink clawing at the back of his mind, he would have noticed the gentle way Clover took the two omegas aside. The conversation lasted a surprisingly long time. But Clover emerged all sweetness and light, swapping the room assignments on his scroll with a flick of his wrist. The teams reconvened with great relief.

It was only the next day, at breakfast, that he thought to ask about it.

“You kids doing okay?” he asked, nursing his coffee. Waking up without a hangover was new. “Did that asshole say anything weird to you, last night?”

Blake and Ren shared a look.

“He believed us right away,” Blake said. “Qrow, I think you’ve got the wrong idea, about him.”

Qrow frowned. “Then what…?”

Ren’s expression was unreadable. “He…pulled up a map of the Academy. He just wanted us to know everywhere we could go to be alone, if we ever needed to.”

Huh.

Clover.

It was only looking back, from the comfort and relative safety of Argus, that he could see clearly what had happened. Clover gave them _hiding places._

It had been idiotic of Qrow not to see it sooner. Clover was someone who wore his heart on his sleeve so resolutely that the sleeve had simply skipped town as he laid himself literally bare. And at the same time, he had this secret that he could _never tell._ All his love he pushed outwards, by necessity. Into his work, his team, his family. Into Qrow.

Qrow didn’t think he deserved that at all.

And yet.

“If you do not start moving right now I am going to murder you.”

As if Clover was in a position to. Qrow tutted, as his boyfriend squirmed underneath him.

They’d started taking missions. They were…dull was a charitable way of describing them. But after the drama of Atlas, dull felt pretty great to Qrow. It was strangely domestic, working their day job then coming home to the extended Ebi-Su family. Qrow had never been one for routine, but he saw the appeal someone like Cedar might have, easing off the front lines so he could build something bigger at home. It reminded him of his Signal days, a bit.

Clover enjoyed the routine just as much, if not more. Faye was right, fundamentally, to push him back into the field. She’d seen what Qrow hadn’t; that this was the thing he’d been deprived of, with James. That without his work he’d just be trading one household for another.

Except it was also ridiculous to think that someone like _Clover_ , who threw himself into whatever he did 100%, would be especially good at balance. Belatedly, he saw why Clover never took missions when he visited his cousins. Because _balance_ , to Clover, meant that he would somehow just replicate all of his energy so that he could dedicate equal amounts to another cause. So it was 100% to family, 100% to work. Qrow was living proof that magic in fact existed, but even he could do basic math.

They were getting a _lot_ of free fish after that boat job, is all Qrow was saying.

There _was_ one thing that got Clover to relax. Fortunately, it was an activity that Qrow enjoyed just as much. He felt a little guilty deploying it for that purpose, so some reframing was necessary. It was training. Clover got some practice in taking time for his own needs. And Qrow was getting _very good_ at knowing how to take Clover apart, piece by piece, savoring every single one.

“Patience is a virtue, Lucky Charm.”

“I’m not feeling especially virtuous at the moment,” Clover shot back.

The fact that Clover could still form full sentences told Qrow exactly what he needed to do. They had the day off, tomorrow. The kids were staying at their grandparents; Faye had gone out with friends; Cedar and Val were already in bed, and he had Clover all to himself.

The lead time had come and gone. The feel of Clover, all around Qrow, hot and wet and _tight_ , was absolutely exquisite, and he was damn well going to enjoy it.

He started slow, with shallow movements, then worked his way up to long, languid thrusts. Clover whined, his legs hooked around Qrow’s back, trying to spur him to go faster.

“ _Qrow,_ please. If you could just…”

Clover trailed off, biting his lip as Qrow slo-o-owly pushed into him.

“Hmm, let me think about it,” Qrow said. He paused to consider. Clover made a noise of frustration, hands clawing at his back. He gave a low chuckle, giving Clover one sharp thrust for good behavior. The omega cried out, the sound lowering to a low whine as Qrow slowed right back down again.

Look. Qrow hadn’t had a lot, growing up. Food was scarce and hard won. And the tribe hadn’t felt the need to spoil children with toys or sweets. The opposite, actually. So whenever he and Raven managed to steal something that they really _wanted_ –a piece of candy, or a cookie, or something pretty and shiny, it was a big deal. Raven always blew through her treats, to ensure no one could take them from her. But Qrow liked to squirrel his away, making them last as long as possible.

Clover was the sweetest and the shiniest of them all. And right now, the thing that Qrow _really wanted_ was to fuck him without a condom.

“You feel so fucking good, Cloves,” he muttered. “So good and tight, for me. Gonna fuck you till you can’t see straight.”

Qrow set a pattern–harder, deeper thrusts mixed with slower, lazy ones, bringing them both right to the edge and then keeping them there. He drew it out for _ages._ It felt like the whole world had been reduced to just his cock, buried in the delicious heat of Clover. He leaned down, catching the omega’s cries with his mouth as they kissed. As Clover moaned into him he lapped it up, greedy.

“Qrow, please…please, I need… _gods_ , Qrow…!” Clover cried. “Qrow, I...I want you to touch me…want you to come in me, want you to fill me up, I want to _feel_ you Qrow, fuck, Qrow…”

He was just babbling, sex-crazed. It was probably the hottest thing Qrow had ever heard. They were both a bit chatty, in the bedroom, but when Clover was just about to come he had a magnificent X-rated running commentary that Qrow was all too happy to encourage.

Qrow adjusted his angle a bit, folding Clover nearly in half. He was getting a little impatient himself, at this point. Clover’s hand flew to his mouth as Qrow swung into a more punishing rhythm, trying to contain the sound. His other hand reached down to stroke himself, and Qrow pulled it away, holding him against the mattress.

“You think you can come, just from my cock? I need you to come for me, okay Lucky Charm?”

Clover nodded, whining into his fist. He looked like he was on another _planet_. Qrow entwined their fingers, snapping his hips forward with a growl.

The sound of it sealed the deal. Clover came, sobbing, come spurting onto both of their stomachs. Qrow fucked him through it, _finally_ letting himself go as his knot formed. Gods, this was…Clover felt so fucking _perfect,_ he could cry.

With a final growl he came, his vision briefly whiting out as his knot slipped in, swelling. He panted, feeling his seed spill inside of Clover. Qrow would be lying if he said there wasn’t a base part of his hindbrain that was thrilled at the idea of filling Clover with his pups.

“ _Fuck_ , Qrow…” Clover said, panting. There were tears at the corners of his eyes, and Qrow kissed them away. “That was…I think you…I think I died, a bit.”

Qrow shifted them into a more comfortable position, easing them both down into the sheets and collapsing on top of Clover. “Too much?” he asked.

Clover shook his head, squeezing Qrow’s hand. He still hadn’t let go. He gave a little huff of laughter. “No, it…well _yeah_ but…it was _really fucking good_.”

His chest swelled with pride. Qrow was a little bit competitive, maybe.

After a while his knot had gone down enough for him for pull out, and they both gasped at the feeling. Some of his seed trickled out of Clover, and the omega squirmed, blushing.

“O–ohhh, that’s…” Clover stuttered. He was so fucking cute when he got flustered like that. Qrow had half a mind to flip him over and lick the come out of him.

Another day. Now, sleep.

The omega’s eyelids were already fluttering. He grumbled a bit as Qrow got up to retrieve a washcloth, turning into a whine as Qrow gently cleaned him up. “...’m not gonna be able to _walk_ tomorrow, Qrow,” he moaned. He didn’t sound that broken up about it.

Qrow curled up behind him, breathing in his scent. He wrapped his arms around Clover’s waist, pulling them skin to skin. “I’ll just have to carry you,” he said, into Clover’s neck.

Clover shivered. “That’s…that’ll be…what’s the word? The opposite one.”

He had absolutely no idea, but he was very much enjoying Clover’s fucked-out rambling.

“Counterproductive,” Clover finally said, yawning. “…’s too fucking hot when you do that…just gonna make you take me back to bed…”

“You talk too much,” Qrow murmured. He nuzzled into Clover’s neck. “Go to sleep.”

Qrow waited until he felt Clover’s heartrate slow, before drifting off himself.

* * *

A couple things happened in quick succession.

Val had her last day at work, and the week after that school let out for the summer. So that weekend, Cedar fired up the grill again and they invited a bunch of people over. Qrow had no idea why a person who was 39 weeks pregnant would want to have a party, but that was the Ebi-Sus. He just hoped Val’s water wouldn’t break over dessert.

Qrow wasn’t crazy about it. He wasn’t much for crowds, and even Clover didn’t know most of them; there were Cedar and Val’s parents, and Val’s sister and her girlfriend, but also all of Val’s friends from work and some other young families she and Cedar liked to hang out with.

Right away, he could tell it was going sideways. All of Val’s coworkers cooed over Clover, with the one exception being his _doctor_ , a terrifying old omega. At least she didn’t fuss over him, unlike the others. Argus was in Mistral, but it there was still a hint of Atlas to the culture. After the third person asked them when they were planning on bonding, Qrow stopped trying to make nice with new people. The, ah, love bite he’d left on Clover last night probably didn’t help.

It also didn’t help that the omega was exhausted. No amount of sex-induced sleeping-in could compensate for the fact that he’d spent the whole day helping Cedar and Val get everything ready. Qrow wondered if, despite the comfort of family, it was maybe not the best idea for them to be staying with the expectant parents. They both clearly loved Clover, and he loved them, but they were too distracted to really pick up on some of his more manic tendencies. Which weren’t being helped by their…well, they were both betas, but _nesting_ was really the only word to describe it.

With the baby due so soon, Cedar had reached a kind of fever pitch of protectiveness. More than once, he’d caught the man roaming through the house doing little safety checks, lest his family be harmed by an unlocked door or a gas leak. He was also unabashedly sentimental, dabbing at his eyes any time Bianca or Rafe did anything even remotely cute. Qrow would bet good money that neither of those kids would be allowed to date until they were 30.

Or maybe longer. Clover had gotten caught in the crossfire, which nobody seemed surprised by at all. Except Qrow had it on the authority of Valerie Su that despite being grayer than Qrow, Cedar was a mere _two years_ older than Clover. Which made him the second youngest, as Val was half a year older. Qrow had Raven for a twin so he should have expected it, but it still seemed patently ridiculous.

Speaking of Val, she’d given him her own little shovel talk. And speaking of Raven, Qrow wasn’t especially surprised by a pregnant woman threatening to ‘gut him like a tuna.’ What was more alarming was when she hugged him–knife in hand, mind you–and asked when his birthday was and what kind of cake he liked. And then started crying.

They were kind of a weepy couple, now that he thought about it.

“Clo, aren’t you cold?” Val asked, pulling her shawl around herself. She and Cedar were sitting near the buffet; she’d flagged them down as they were heading over to grab some food. “It’s kind of chilly out. Cedar, go get him something to wear.”

It was a clear night, and pretty warm for Argus. But of course it was Argus, so the warm wasn’t all _that_ warm. Qrow had his own thoughts about Clover’s tank top, but he kept them to himself, lest his boyfriend do something ridiculous like cover up.

“Val, I live…er, _lived_ in Atlas. It’s not that cold here. I’m fine.” Clover said.

Cedar waved him off. “No, don’t worry, Shrimp. I got you.”

“Ce, seriously, I’m not cold.” Clover said, annoyed. “And if I was, I actually remember how to project my aura, unlike you.”

Faye elbowed Qrow as she came up behind him, sensing a prime opportunity. “He just wants Qrow to see his muscles,” she said, toasting him with her drink. “Qrow, you think he’s got nice arms, right? Because then we can all move past this ridiculous pretense.”

If Cedar and Val were nesting, Faye was another story. She was all jokes and camaraderie, at first, but there was an edge to her teasing that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. He wasn’t sure what her deal was, but lately she seemed to specifically aim her barbs at _Qrow._

Clover glared at her. “Qrow, you don’t have to answer that.”

He probably knew the answer, anyway.

Cedar paused, on his way into the house, pointing at Clover. “You think I can’t still take you, Shrimp?”

“Honey, don’t be ridiculous,” Val said. “Clo, please, I would _personally_ feel better if you wore something warmer.”

“I…fine,” Clover said, exhaling.

“Cedar?”

“Fine, I’m going!”

“Qrow?” Faye asked. Qrow started.

“What?”

“Say goodbye to Shrimp’s arms. They’re leaving now.”

“Faye, I swear to the gods, if you don’t–hey!” Clover caught the hoodie Cedar had thrown at him.

“Here you go, Shrimp.”

Val frowned. “Can you go get him the gray one? That one’s warmer.”

“I’m. Not. Cold.”

“Sure you are,” Cedar assured him. Qrow winced. _That_ was not going to go down well. “Babe, this one has a higher neckline. I read somewhere you lose 90% of your body heat through the neck.”

Faye smirked at Qrow. “Ce, he’s obviously already _seen_ Shrimp’s neck. It’s cute, let him show off for his little boyfriend.”

Clover grabbed Qrow’s hand. This was it. Qrow said goodbye to the hope of a pleasant night.

“If you’d all like to keep babying me,” he said, forcefully tossing the hoodie back at Cedar, “Maybe Qrow and I will just go sit at the kids’ table.”

Qrow didn’t have anything to say to that. He was older than all four of them, and it had never been more apparent. He let Clover drag him into the house, watched as Clover relieved Val’s parents of babysitting duty, then sat with Bianca and Rafe and the other assorted children at the kitchen table while Clover fumed silently.

The kids’ table was more fun, anyway. Bianca, the eldest, delighted in introducing all the other children to her cool new friend Qrow and her favorite Uncle Clover. She regaled them with tales of how they took her to all the fun places and did all the fun things and how they were always together.

“And he’s Uncle Clover’s _boyfriend_ , and sometimes they _kiss._ ” Bianca said, eventually coming up for air. She turned to him. “Right?”

“Yup,” he said. He could hardly believe it himself. He snagged a grape off of her plate, popping it in his mouth.

“That makes you Uncle Qrow!” Rafe supplied, helpfully.

Qrow choked.

Clover pounded his back and Qrow coughed up the half-chewed grape, undignified, onto the table. A chorus of ‘ _ewww’_ s went around. When he looked up, Clover was hiding his face behind his hands, shoulders shaking with mirth.

“Rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?” he said, schooling his expression into something more appropriate.

Qrow pointed at him, warning. “You just wait until Ruby and Yang get their claws in you. You have no idea what’s coming, Lucky Charm.”

He stood, wiping up his mess with a napkin. “You want something to eat other than…” he eyed the offerings. “Chicken nuggets?”

Clover looked down, then smacked his forehead. “Shit, sorry. I just kind of stormed off.”

“Uncle Clover said a bad word!” Bianca crowed. She looked around the table knowingly. The younger kids all seemed impressed. “My mom says that one a lot.”

Qrow bet she did. He turned to Bianca. “Kid, I will give you…” he paused, taking in the whole little cartel. “…I will give _all of you_ an extra scoop of ice cream if you don’t tell your mom and dad what you just heard. Especially your dad.”

These kids knew where their bread was buttered. “Yes, Uncle Qrow!” they said, as one.

Qrow winced. Clover’s mouth twitched. “Bribery, huh?”

“That’s how a pro does it,” Qrow shot back. “Cloves, if I bring you something are you actually gonna eat it?”

“Yes, Uncle Qrow!” Clover parroted, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Qrow rolled his eyes, stalking out into the backyard. If it took a little humiliation to snap Clover out of his funk, then that was a decent price to pay.

He filled their plates, deliberately not making eye contact with anyone. He tried to pick things Clover especially liked–grilled oysters, because Argus; Cedar’s spicy chicken; sweet summer corn; a soft, buttery roll; and spinach salad with strawberries, just to be healthy. Qrow had never met a person who loved food more who had such a hard time getting it down. He grabbed an extra roll for good measure.

As he went to go back into the house, he spotted Clover’s family at one of the big patio tables. Faye caught his eye, smirking.

Something in him snapped. It was the same instinct that triggered whenever Ruby gave him those puppy dog eyes, or Yang went all _quiet_ , a completely unnatural state. He stalked over, plunking their food on the table.

It was more than just Cedar and Val and Faye sitting at the table. Val’s sister and her partner were there, and that scary-ass omega doctor. Qrow didn’t care.

“You all need to back off,” he said. “I know you think you’re helping, but you’re not.”

Everyone stared at him. Qrow was…look, he was never going to be perfect boyfriend material, but he knew _Clover_ , and at this point the patterns were quite clear. The less in control Clover felt during the day, the more boxed in he was, the more frantic he was at night and the less sleep he got. Which led to even more manic behavior the next day, and so on with the cycle. Not to mention the nightmares, which were thankfully rare but absolutely devastating.

“You,” he pointed at Val. “Quit picking at him. He’s not your kid. He doesn’t need sleeves to take down a horde of Grimm in the middle of Solitas, so he should be fine without them when he’s just sitting on his ass eating dinner.”

Next, Cedar. “You. Look, I know you don’t like me, but Clover’s not some blushing virgin. Quit trying to play overprotective big brother just because these two have you whipped.”

“Finally, you,” he turned to Faye. The Huntress crossed her arms, challenging. Qrow faltered. “Uh…you’re fine.”

Faye smirked. He turned to go, then paused, whirling back around.

“Actually, you’re not fine. Quit trolling me. Yes, I do think his arms are nice. And his neck, and his face, and his gods-damned little finger. I think every part of him is nice, because I fucking love him. It there something funny about that?”

Faye blinked. She shook her head.

“Good.” Qrow said. A little of the bluster drained out of him, and then he was just standing there like an idiot. He picked up their plates, and went inside.

When he got back to the kids’ table, Clover was telling them an exaggerated story about the Ace Ops. Actually…he recognized it. It was the Amity mine mission, the first one they’d all done together. With details cleaned up for little ears, of course.

He looked up as Qrow deposited his plate on the table, shooting Qrow a grateful smile.

“But just before the last dust crystal could fall to the ground and blow us all up, _Ruby_ swept in with her super-speed and caught it. Why, she even beat Harriet!”

All the kids _‘oooh’_ ed and _‘ahhh’_ ed appropriately. Qrow felt a little swell of pride.

“Ruby is _so cool_ ,” Bianca said. “Uncle Qrow told me _all_ about her, and he showed us a picture and she’s really pretty. And so is Yang, and she has really nice hair and a cool metal arm and I bet she can punch even harder than my _dad_.”

Bianca wasn’t too bad, herself.

Clover winked at him as he tore into a roll. Of course, he went right for the bread; Qrow had him pinned.

“You kids know who trained Ruby, right?” Clover said. “Why, it was the coolest, strongest, most awesome, and most _handsome_ Huntsman in all of Remnant.”

“Uncle Qrow!” Rafe exclaimed, throwing his hands up. Gods, he’d be hearing that nonstop for the next week.

Qrow rolled his eyes, pulling Clover over for a kiss. The kids went absolutely insane.

* * *

Qrow shouldn’t have counted his chickens at dinner, because that night Clover had a terrible nightmare. Gods only knew what images Clover’s subconscious had drummed up to torture him. All Qrow knew was that he’d woken up to the gasp of breath beside him, to the shaking of hands and shoulders. Unlike Clover, he was a light sleeper. He’d had to be, in his line of work. So he saw _everything._

It took _forever_ to get Clover to fall asleep again. Every time Qrow thought he had him settled, some other stray thought would wander into Clover’s mind and he’d be shaking and terrified all over again.

It was abundantly clear that Qrow’s little balcony visits had only just scratched the surface of what Clover had gone through. He kept waiting for the other man to talk to him about the details and he just…never did. Maybe he figured there was no point since Qrow already had the basic gist of it. Maybe he wanted to, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say them out loud. 

“You’re okay, Lucky Charm. You wanna tell me about it?”

Clover shook his head, violently. He had a vice grip around Qrow’s middle, and his breath was coming in ragged gasps. Qrow smoothed his hair back, cursing himself for setting him off again. “Shhhh, that’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. I’m here when you need me, okay?”

Clover nodded. “Sorry,” he squeaked. This was the worst part. Clover always _apologized_ , after his nightmares, and it broke his fucking heart.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Qrow murmured, pressing a kiss to Clover’s hair. “You’re here, okay? With me. In Argus. You’re not there. You’re safe. You with me, Cloves?”

Clover nodded again, barely. That seemed to be helping.

“Good, that’s good. You’re so strong, Cloves. Just breathe with me, okay? You’re doing so good.”

He took deep, even breaths, letting Clover feel the steady rhythm of his chest. Clover tried to match him. Eventually, he calmed enough that the sobbing subsided, giving way to a deep exhaustion. It was like a horrible mirror image of Clover’s heat, except instead of desire gripping the omega it was pure fear, coming in wave after nauseating wave. Qrow wiped the tears from his own eyes, trying to be strong.

“Okay, Lucky Charm?”

“Tired…” Clover sighed, closing his eyes. He went boneless, where he rested on Qrow’s chest.

Qrow ran his fingers through Clover’s hair, soothing. “You can sleep, Cloves. I’ll be here, okay?”

“…’kay…”

If only Qrow could sleep, the rest of the night. Even after Clover drifted off he laid awake, wracked with guilt. It was his fault Clover was suffering. He should have made Clover come with him, that night on the transport. He should have come for Clover sooner. He should have told Clover who he was. He should have realized what a hell James was putting him through. He should have gone after James himself.

Round and round he went, blaming himself for everything. At around three in the morning he crawled out of bed, restless. Clover was sleeping, thank the gods, his tear-stained face resting peacefully, for now, against the pillow.

He padded past the living room, and into the kitchen. Gods, he needed a…

He took a deep breath. He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t be an even bigger piece of shit than he already was.

With shaking hands, he retrieved a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. He drank the whole thing standing in front of the sink, pointedly not looking at the refrigerator, where he knew there was wine and beer from the party. When that was done he gripped the counter, concentrating on his breathing.

“Qrow?”

He flinched, knocking the glass into the sink, where it shattered.

It was Faye.

Qrow breathed, shaken, leaning against the sink. When he had that under control, he went to clean up the glass. “Sorry if I woke you,” he muttered. “Thought you slept with earplugs.”

“He’s not doing so well, is he?”

Qrow paused, hand over a shard of glass. “No,” he said. “He’s not.”

His hand slipped as he went to pick it up, slicing open his palm. “Shit,” he muttered.

Faye came up behind him. “I’ve got this,” she said. Calmly, she cleared the rest of the glass while Qrow pushed aura into his hand, closing the cut. He sucked the blood from his skin. It was bitter, metallic.

“Qrow, I…about what you said, earlier.”

He shook his head. “Sorry. I just…got carried away, is all.”

Faye shook her head. “No, I…you’re right. We do baby him. And I guess I was just…a little jealous, is all.”

Qrow frowned. “Jealous?” Of who, of Clover? Of _him?_

Faye sighed. “You’re kind of a legend, Qrow Branwen. You’re this incredible Huntsman. Way better than me. And everyone loves you. The kids just met you and they like you more than they like me. Val adores you. And don’t let Cedar fool you, he’s just as smitten with you as the rest of them. And then there’s Clover.”

She smiled, softly. “He used to look up to me, you know? When we were kids. I was top of the class, had this promising career. In Atlas or in Mistral, I could have had either, and I…left. Because I wanted adventure.”

She shook her head. “Now look what’s happened. To Atlas, to Mistral. To Clover.” She reached out, grasping his shoulder. “You’re the one who saved him. It should have been me.”

“He saved himself.” Qrow said, shrugging her off. “Look, I don’t know what would have changed, if you’d been in Atlas. Salem would have come anyway. But if you’d stayed in Mistral, you’d be dead.”

“You don’t know that,” Faye said, stubborn.

Qrow thought of Tyrian, of the horizontal scar that marked his abdomen. Of the rows and rows of names of Huntresses and Huntsmen missing in action. Of that hysterical laugh as he tried to take Ruby. Of the way he blew open Clover’s entire life, just for fun. Tyrian would have ripped her to shreds.

“Yes, I do.”

He pushed himself away from the counter. He jerked his head toward the bedroom. “I’m gonna…I don’t want him to wake up alone.”

“Sure,” Faye said. She stepped back.

And then he was gone, dissolved into the shadows of the hallway.

Clover was still, blessedly, asleep when he returned. Qrow laid down, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I love you,” he said, closing his eyes. “And you scare the shit out of me.”

He laid there, keeping watch, until the morning light crept through the windows and Clover opened his eyes. Qrow couldn’t even pretend to still be asleep.

“Hey,” Qrow said.

Clover looked right at him. There was such sadness in those teal eyes. He must have known the jig was up. “Hey,” he responded. His voice was rough with sleep and grief. “Do Cedar and Faye know?”

Qrow sighed. He ran his fingers through Clover’s hair. “Faye does. I’d guess they both will, soon.”

Clover just looked so heartbroken. His jaw trembled, lost.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Clover shook his head, but he scooted closer. He tucked his head into Qrow’s chest, palm pressing against his heart.

“I _can’t,_ Qrow.”

Qrow could feel the tremors threatening to start up again. “Okay, that’s fine. What do you need?”

“Can you just hold me?” Clover asked, voice small, haunted.

Qrow pressed a kiss to his forehead, wrapping the omega in his arms. “Of course,” he said. “I’m here, okay? I’m always gonna be here.”

That was a damn lie, and Qrow knew it. But he wanted it to be true.

Clover curled into him. It hurt so much, when Clover just cried, softly. Qrow held him through it. He didn’t know what else to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qrow really demanded a lot of tonal shifts, this week. Such is Qrow.


	6. Ghosts That Linger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clover takes a trip, then comes back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! To make up for the delay, look at this 9000-word monstrosity I have created. _Look at it._

_To: James Ironwood_

_From: Cedar Ebi_

_Subject: Upcoming Supply Drops_

_General Ironwood,_

_As I am preparing to go on paternity leave, I regret that I will no longer be able to personally monitor the Mistral-Atlas supply chain. However, given the critical importance of these materials in these trying times, I assure you I have put my best people in charge of operations during my absence. If you have further questions, please refer them to Lieutenant Moss, who will be handling all efforts in my stead._

_Best,_

_Major Ebi_

_Logistics Division, Argus Base_

_P.S. What did you do to my cousin, you rat bastard_

* * *

It wasn’t fair.

You have one awful, terrifying, panic-inducing nightmare, and suddenly everyone treated you like you were made of glass.

Or…more than one, as it happened.

Clover’s nightmare left him horribly exhausted, and he probably could have just gone back to bed except that he was terrified of what would happen if he fell asleep. Mostly because he did, despite himself, at around eight in the morning. He drifted off watching cartoons in the den with Bianca and was shaken awake twenty minutes later by Faye, who hovered over him while he sorted through the afterimages of…of…

So he’d also traumatized his niece, which was great.

Clover had tried to play if off as best he could, but it was a losing game at that point and everyone knew it. There wasn’t much use in trying to smile and joke around when every five seconds he had to sit with his thoughts it felt like his chest was about to cave in.

The best thing to do was probably to just avoid talking to anyone for the rest of the day and maybe always, even though being alone made him want to die. It’s just that other people wanted to do things like talk, and Clover didn’t.

Easier said than done. The house was fully occupied, and the combined Ebi-Sus were not really a ‘leave you alone to your thoughts’ kind of family. Qrow, meanwhile _was_ the kind of person who you could sit in comfortable silence with, but in the cold light of day Clover felt immensely guilty over his numerous outbursts. And sure, he could just leave the house and go somewhere quiet, except the thought of it filled him with dread. So the compromise he came up with was to huddle out on the back deck all alone, nerves shot to shit, and to snap at anyone who tried to talk to him.

He didn’t feel like talking. He was afraid to leave the house. There were people everywhere, but he’d never felt so alone.

Everything was spinning out of his control.

* * *

He was curled up in a deck chair, ass slowly going numb from the unyielding wood as he stared uncomprehendingly at a book, when Cedar found him.

The older he got, the more Cedar started to look like his father, Clover’s Uncle. Which meant he also looked a lot more like _Clover’s_ father. It was fascinating, sometimes, to take in this funhouse mirror version of the man. They had the same thick, graying hair and square jaw. The same sharp, blue-gray eyes. Except where his father’s face was a constant stern mask, Cedar’s was kind and open. He had laugh lines and crow’s feet from smiling. His posture was loose. He was quick with a hug or a pat on the back. And he cried, openly, all the time. At his wedding, at funerals, when Bianca and Rafe were born. Little things, too. At cheesy kids’ movies and videos of dogs and old photos that reminded him of a time. 

How had they gone so different? Clover’s father had _never_ cried, at least not in front of him. Maybe he had, when Clover’s mom died, but if he did he’d hidden it away, secret and shameful.

Clover had tried that too, for a while. Until his whole life had been laid bare for everyone to just come and have a gander. He was like the wall in Mantle–leaks kept popping up no matter how hard he tried to hold them in.

“You doing okay, Shrimp?” Cedar said, sitting down next to him. Clover curled further into his chair, instinctually.

“I’m fine,” he said, flat.

“Anything you want to talk ab– “

“No.”

Clover stared resolutely at his book. The air was silent for a moment, and then Cedar clapped him on the shoulder. “Okay, come on. Get up. We’re going on a trip.”

“What?” he said, looking up. A _trip?_ “I’m already on a trip.”

Actually…that wasn’t really true, was it? He didn’t really live anywhere, anymore. He couldn’t go back to Atlas. Argus was nice but it wasn’t _home_. Oh gods, he had no home. The ache in his chest started up again. It felt like his heart would beat its way out through his throat.

Noticing his faroff look, Cedar lightly thwacked the back of his head. “Snap out of it,” he said. “Go get dressed. We’re leaving in ten.”

He looked down at himself. He was wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt of Cedar’s from a charity run over a decade ago. It was very soft, and very comfortable. “Is this not a good look?”

“Cute,” Cedar said, grabbing his hand and hauling him up with…actually, surprising strength. Huh. Maybe the old man still had a bit of an edge.

Clover grumbled as he got to his feet. Cedar shoved him into the house, down the hall to the bedroom. Inside, Qrow was cleaning out the shotgun mechanism on Harbinger. Cedar gave him a little push toward the dresser, where their sparse belongings were stored.

“Clothes, Shrimp.”

“Is there a dress code I should be aware of?” he asked, sarcastic.

“Actually,” Cedar said, leaning in the doorway, “Yes. Something nice, if you have it.”

He _didn’t_ have anything nice. It was all back in James’s apartment, along with his books and his plants and his precious carbon steel, custom-made, _left-handed_ Mistralian vegetable knife. He huffed in frustration, rifling through the drawers for something half-decent.

“Are you even gonna tell me where we’re going?” he asked, whining like an actual child.

“You’ll see,” Cedar said.

“Can Qrow come?”

Qrow had been watching the exchange like it was a tennis match, and now both of them turned their attention to him.

“Uh,” he said, mouth open. “I…told Saph and Terra I’d meet them at the Farmer’s Market.”

Clover snorted, incredulous. “ _You_ are going to the Farmer’s Market?”

“What’s so funny about that?” Qrow said, defensive.

He raised an eyebrow. “Is there anything in particular you’re looking forward to, at the Farmer’s Market?”

“Yes,” Qrow said, immediately. “All the…farm…stuff. At the market.”

“The man just said he has plans, Shrimp.” Cedar interjected. He’d probably strong-armed Qrow behind Clover’s back, which was _infuriating_. Cedar eyed the weapon in Qrow’s lap. “Qrow, you lock that thing up when you’re not using it, right?”

“I…will now?”

“Great,” Cedar said, grimacing. He turned back to Clover. “Quit flirting and get changed.”

Clover held a pair of pants out, in demonstration. “Are you gonna _watch me?”_

Cedar turned red and shut the door.

“Honestly…” Clover muttered, as he changed. He yanked his shirt off with a bit more oomph than necessary. Qrow coughed, behind him. Clover glanced over his shoulder at the alpha as he kicked off the sweatpants. Qrow had averted his gaze to his weapon, which was completely unnecessary but kind of sweet. But now his hands hovered over Harbinger, uncertain.

“Is something wrong?” he said, frowning.

Qrow shook his head, gaze fixed downward. “Clover,” he said, dead serious. “This scythe is the most precious thing I own. I made it with my own two hands. It needs to be precisely calibrated or this whole thing could blow up when I try to use it, and I am not even going to _risk_ touching it when you’re standing there looking like that.”

Dating Qrow was a constant grab-bag of one-of-a-kind treasures. Today, apparently, it was that Qrow considered Clover in his underwear too dangerous to look at when fine motor skills were required. His mood brightened a little.

He smirked. “You…have no idea what the Farmer’s Market is, do you?”

“Absolutely none.”

* * *

Clover let Qrow get to a good stopping point before leaning down to kiss the top of his head and requesting a custard apple, if they had them. He was still trying to convince the other man that it was a real fruit when Cedar banged on the door, impatient.

Clover emerged, annoyed at being pulled from something he actually enjoyed–teasing Qrow–so he could face a car ride of indeterminate length with Cedar needling him the whole time.

“Where’s your weapon?” Cedar asked.

He blinked. “Am I gonna need it?”

Cedar shrugged, as Clover ducked back into the room to retrieve Kingfisher. “Sometimes the roads are bad.”

“Maybe if you would tell me where we’re– “

“Don’t worry about it,” Cedar said, waving him off.

As they crossed the threshold there was a moment of terrifying agoraphobia, nearly halting him in his tracks. It made no sense; he’d been in and out of this house every single day, and no one was…no one was _trying_ to keep him here. It was just that the memories all swirled in his head so close to the surface now that it was hard to tell what he was actually feeling versus what he remembered feeling.

But there was no time to dwell on it, as Cedar led him out to the car with a hand on his shoulder. He eyed Rafe’s carseat in the back, as he hid his shaking hands.

“What if Val needs the– “

“Val’s not going anywhere, if she can help it. And if she does, she can call Faye, or Mom and Dad, or Al and Opal, or Veronica. Hell, she can call Qrow if she wants to.”

“All right, I get it,” he said, yanking open the passenger door. “I’m not necessary.”

Cedar’s face softened. “Just because we don’t need you here doesn’t mean we don’t want you, Shrimp.”

That was too much to think about, so he folded himself into the seat and slammed the door, sullen. Cedar just sighed, as he started the car. They didn’t talk at all as Cedar navigated the steep streets, the oldies on the radio the only sound filling the space.

After a while they got out of the city, and Cedar took the Southwest road. As they passed familiar curves heading over the hill, Clover turned to his cousin with dread. He knew this route. The clawing in his chest started up in earnest.

“Ce, no.”

Cedar squared his jaw. “You don’t want to talk to me, you can talk to her.”

“I’m _fine_ , I don’t need to _talk_ to anyone.”

The thought of it made his skin crawl. He cracked the window, needing to feel the fresh air.

“Then you can just sit in the car while I visit,” Cedar said. “How long has it been, Shrimp?”

Clover wondered if he could just leap out of the car. He bet he could. “None of your business.”

“Don’t you think it’s about time?”

It was, and Clover felt immensely guilty over it. Instead of dealing with that, he lashed out.

“Easy for you to say when you _have_ both your parents.”

Cedar sucked in a breath, but kept his eyes on the road. Ever the responsible driver. Clover felt bad immediately.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, that was shitty. I know you miss her, too.”

“No, you’re right.” Cedar said. There was a note of regret in his voice. “We can turn back, if you want.”

It had been years, since he’d visited his mother’s grave.

There was a logistical issue and an emotional one. Amaranth Ebi was buried in Mistral, in the town she grew up in. It wasn’t far from Argus, maybe an hour’s drive to the south. But Clover was rarely in Argus anymore, and when he was he didn’t like to waste everyone’s time by being sad. So he stayed away. It was easier.

The ritual was past due. Clover just wished he’d had his problems all solved, before he came to see her. Instead, everything he thought he’d put behind him was coming back around for a second swing.

He sighed, looking out at the familiar hills and scattered settlements. “No, I…let’s keep going.”

In a rare show of recklessness, Cedar moved his hands from the regulation ten and two position to squeeze his knee. It eased the pressure in his chest, a bit.

Clover leaned his head against the window. Cedar was a good driver, smooth on the winding roads out of town. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all, but the warmth of the morning sun through the window and the soft lullaby of the radio coaxed him into an uneasy slumber. He was so tired.

He had a dream.

* * *

_“Can you feel it?”_

_James tilted his head, watching as Clover caressed the metal of his chest._

_“In a way,” he said. “I can sense that your hand is there. I know what it feels like when you touch me. And when I see you…”_

_He shivered, as Clover traced circles with his fingers. “It’s…not the same sensation, as my other half. But in a way, it’s more intense. It’s like my brain fills in the gap. All Pietro’s work, I’m afraid. The human mind is amazing, as he’s fond of reminding me. His certainly is.”_

_“Hmm,” Clover said, “I think it’s you who’s amazing.”_

_James smirked, flipping their position so he was on top of Clover, again. Clover shivered, as he felt the cool metal against his fevered skin. James’s thigh pressed between his legs. He moaned, baring his neck._

_“You’re burning up,” James said as he leaned in, his beard scratching at Clover’s sensitive skin. “It’s starting again, isn’t it?”_

_Or…no. The beard came later. This was before that._

_“James, please,” he panted. The fever rushed through him, intense. How had he…how was it coming on so suddenly? Everything was happening so fast._

_James nipped lightly at his neck, and he cried out. “I can tell. It’s in your scent. Gods, you…you’re the one who’s amazing. You smell amazing. You’ll look so amazing, when you’re swollen from my pups.”_

_Wait, this wasn’t…it hadn’t happened like that. This wasn’t right. Clover pushed, one hand to flesh and the other to metal, but his arms felt weak. James nudged his legs open, as he pulled Clover’s hair to expose his neck further._

_“James, stop,” he pleaded, to no avail. No, this was…this was a dream. He had to wake up. All he needed to do was wake up and it would stop why couldn’t he wake up why wouldn’t James listen why didn’t he stop why–_

_“You are **mine** ,” James growled, biting down hard to claim him. _

* * *

Clover woke, gasping for breath. His heart was racing a mile a minute. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was except that he _couldn’t move_ and he felt like he was dying. There was a yelp from beside him and his world lurched. He clawed at his chest in a panic, trying to get free.

“It’s okay, Shrimp. Just me, okay? Just listen to my voice, I’m gonna pull over and you can get out, just hang on. Just stay with me. Breathe with me.”

Car. He was in the car and it was Cedar talking and the reason he couldn’t move was his seatbelt. He tried to focus on the sound of Cedar’s voice, coaching him to breathe in, then out.

He felt the car slow and there was a crunch of gravel as they pulled to a stop. He fumbled with the seatbelt, fingers shaking too hard to find the button. Cedar reached over to help and his first, shameful instinct was to shrink back. But Cedar just pressed the button, setting him free.

The car door was easier. He clawed at the lever and swung his shoulder into pushing the door open. He made it five steps before collapsing on his knees and throwing up in the bushes. When his stomach was empty and it was just bile, Cedar handed him a wad of tissues and a bottle of water. He sat back, wiping his mouth and rinsing with the water, then spitting into the dirt.

He looked around. They were on a country road, lined with tall grass. They must be close, then. Cedar was studying him, concern clearly oozing out of every pore in his body.

“All right, Shrimp?”

Clover shook his head.

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” he said, feeling defeated.

Cedar sighed, kneeling down next to him. “Shrimp… _Clover,_ you know you can talk to me, right?”

He shook his head, again. If he spoke the words, if he put names to his fears, then they were really real. It wasn’t all just a bad dream, and he wasn’t just here sharing a nice vacation with his boyfriend and his family.

“Cedar, please, I…I _can’t. Please_ don’t make me. I don’t want to. I…”

He took a shuddering breath. Cedar brushed his hair back. “I’m not gonna make you do anything, okay? Just…please look at me, for a second. You don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it.”

He did. Cedar was looking at him so earnestly, tears welling up in his eyes.

“You know there’s nothing you could tell me that would make me love you any less,” he said.

His father never cried. And he never really told Clover he loved him, either. He must have been a child, the last time he’d said it.

He bit his lip, looking away. It took a couple deep breaths before his eyes stopped stinging.

“How close are we?”

Cedar looked out onto the horizon. “It’s just over the hill. Might as well walk, from here.”

“Okay,” he said, standing. “Let’s just go.”

* * *

Clover’s parents were buried on separate continents, a testament to an increasingly distant marriage. There must have been a time when Amaranth Timm and John Ebi had been madly in love. In fact, he knew there was, because Faye had told him so. He remembered shared smiles and kisses, but they were fuzzy in his mind. It was like looking at photographs of yourself as a child–one could never tell if the memory was one’s own or if it had formed out of the knowledge that it had occurred. Nonetheless, by the time he was a teenager the passion had cooled. They did most everything apart, except raise him. Clover supposed you didn’t have to be bonded to feel stuck together.

So his mother’s grave was here in Mistral, in the country town she loved and missed. And his father’s ashes were in Atlas, the city in the sky. Until very recently they had been shoved in a box in the back corner of his closet. Now they were on the mantle above the fireplace in James’s apartment, where they were useful to exactly no one. Clover wondered if they were still there, or if James had cast them to the wind yet.

They cut across a field to get to the little graveyard, kneeling to pick handfuls of flowers as they went. It was a good time of year for it. Crimson and violet and fuchsia and butter-yellow blossoms filled his hands. His mother’s namesake and his own, and a few others for good measure. He tied his bundle with a blade of tall grass, packed up neat and ready.

There were only a handful of plots here, a few dozen sentimental souls who wanted to return to the soil in this little hamlet. Cedar pushed him forward with an encouraging smile.

Clover sat cross-legged in the grass, in front of the gravestone, and placed his little bouquet on top. His fingers traced out the letters of his mother’s name.

“Hey, Ma,” he said.

Clover paused, at a loss. His grief over her was never tidy; it never came when he wanted it to. Instead it would sneak up on him at odd hours, leaving him gasping for breath.

“I met a guy,” he said, finally. This was an easier topic, a happier one. “His name’s Qrow. He’s…well, he was…he’s sort of my combat partner. I’m, uh, I’m not in the Ace Ops anymore.”

This was harder. It felt like everything he’d accomplished had crumbled like sand. For all it mattered now, his father could have married him off to some socialite when he came of age. Maybe he could have done some charity work or something between popping out kids.

He’d…he’d done some good, right? Some of it had mattered?

“I’m still fighting,” he said, squaring his jaw. It was as much to convince himself as it was for her. “And there’s no one I trust more to have my back. I think you’d like him. He’s not like any alpha I’ve ever met. He’s sweet, and he’s funny. He…he actually respects me. He’s got two nieces, they just started out as Huntresses. But there’s all these other kids he just kind of adopted. I can tell how much they all look up to him. He’s really good with Bianca and Rafe, too. Val told me…she said you have to look at how someone treats other people. That that’s how you know their character. I see the kindness in him, in how he treats those kids.”

He laughed a little. “I don’t think he ever would have thought of himself like that. He…he’s been through a lot, but he doesn’t let that hold him down. He’s strong. Not like…”

Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill over. He leaned over, resting his forehead against the smooth stone.

“I’m sorry I’m not better. I really need you here right now.”

That was all he could say. He sat in the grass, crying quietly, until the ache in his chest faded. He imagined her arms around him, telling him everything would be okay. 

* * *

His cousin was sitting on a lone bench on the edge of the graveyard, eyes closed, face turned to the sun. He opened them as Clover approached. “You can take more time, if you want.”

Clover shook his head. “You go on.”

Cedar left him sitting on the bench while he went to pay his own respects. He kept it brief, just a few words lost to the wind and a press of his hand against the grass, and then he was back. It took less than ten minutes. Clover supposed Cedar came by more often than he did, anyway.

“Hey,” Cedar said, sitting down next to him.

Clover sighed, weary. “I miss her,” he said, leaning against Cedar. “I just…I wish she was here, because she would know how to make it better.”

Cedar nodded. “She was good at that, yeah,” he said. “But much as it pains me to admit it, parents don’t always have all the answers.”

There were so many questions he wanted to ask her, that he’d never even known he would need to. He’d been so young, and there had been no warning. Clover sometimes envied people who watched their parents waste away. It was a horrible thing to think, but he desperately wished for the guidance of a dying woman. To have a letter, or a precious gift, or whispered last words telling him she loved him for always. Instead he had doubt, and guilt.

“Do you think she loved my dad?” he asked, idly rubbing his mother’s pin.

“I know she loved _you,_ ” Cedar said, rubbing his shoulder. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this talk.

“Ce…”

“I don’t know, Shrimp. People do weird things for love.”

Clover had first-hand experience with that. On both sides. 

“How’d you know you loved Val?” he asked.

Cedar tilted his head back and forth. “It was slow. It took me a long time to convince myself it was real. I guess ‘cause I’d seen…” he paused, looking into the distance. “I don’t know that there was one big moment where I realized it. More like a lot of little ones. Eventually I just knew that I didn’t want to be anywhere she wasn’t.”

A smile tugged at his mouth. “Val said for her, it was seeing how you treated me.”

“I know, right?” Cedar said, amazed. “Ugh, I probably owe you one of my kids’ names. Joke’s on you, this is the last one and it’s a girl.”

“I think Clover would be a lovely name for a girl,” he said, teasing.

“We’ve got something better in mind.” Cedar said, rolling his eyes.

They sat in silence for a moment. Finally, he turned to his cousin.

“Thanks, Ce. This was…I needed this.”

Cedar ruffled his hair. “I just worry about you, Shrimp. Lately, especially. But I probably always will.”

Clover looked down, studying the pin in his hands. “Because I’m weak.”

“You’re _not_ weak.” Cedar said, a fiery determination in his voice. “No, I…I worry because I love you. And I hate seeing you hurt. I’m probably…a little overzealous about that, sometimes. It’s just…you don’t know how scared I was, when you disappeared. It was like my worst nightmare, come true.”

Clover gathered absolutely all of his courage, before he spoke.

“You should know, James didn’t try to…” he paused, the hot flush of shame creeping up his neck. “It wasn’t like that time. If that’s what you’re wondering.”

Cedar just rubbed his back. “Okay,” he said, remarkably even-toned. Like he hadn’t been imagining every worst-case scenario.

Clover took a deep breath. He might as well finish the thought.

“But he could have. If he wanted to. One time he got so mad and he…I’ve never seen him…” His breath hitched. Cedar pulled him closer, and he rested his head on his cousin’s shoulder.

“I couldn’t stop him,” he said, fighting back tears. “He was stronger.”

“Clover…” Cedar said, “Just because someone else is stronger doesn’t make you weak.”

He shook his head. “I should have been able to fight him off. I barely even _tried_. If I was a beta like I was supposed to be, maybe I would have.”

“If you were a beta,” Cedar said, a note of gentle exasperation in his voice, “You still would have been up against a guy who’s huge and half metal. Take it from a beta. There’s always someone bigger and stronger than you. That _doesn’t_ give them the right to do whatever they want.”

Easy for him to say. Cedar’s dynamic didn’t make people _want_ to claim him as their prize. He felt like he’d been fighting for so long, and he was so tired of it all. If it wasn’t real life it was his dreams, to come and remind him how fundamentally pathetic his little aspirations were. How fragile it all was, to think he could be his own person.

The thing that had been eating at him worked its way up out of his throat.

“Is it…wrong that I miss him?”

There was a beat, as Cedar caught up to him.

“Oh, Shrimp…”

He missed James. He missed the easy way they used to talk. How they could brainstorm ideas for difficult problems or just joke around between missions. He missed their old sparring matches. He missed the advice James gave him when he was just starting out. He missed the shared glances and too-long touches that kept him hoping for more for so many years. He used to _love_ seeing James every day, until James was all he _could_ see.

“He was my friend,” Clover said, sniffling. He looked over at Cedar, his vision blurred with tears. “I thought he cared about me. Why did he…why did he have to hurt me like that?”

He didn’t think that it would be _James_ who would make him feel that way, trapped and cornered with nowhere to go and no choice to make. The whole start of it he’d thought of James like some reluctant co-conspirator with the state. It had blinded him, kept him docile with hope until one by one his options were stripped away. All because Clover was too stupid or soft or desperate for affection. If some knothead alpha had tried that on him, if he’d gone to a reformatory instead, it wouldn’t feel like his own _heart_ had betrayed him. Being defeated was so very different from being _broken_.

_You are mine._

He shuddered, as the memories bubbled up. Cedar was there immediately, wrapping him up in a hug. Clover sobbed into his shoulder, finally letting himself break down. He leaned into the comforting presence of his cousin, earthy and grounded and safe.

“I miss him,” he cried. “I miss him, and I hate him, and I’m scared of him, and I’m so mad at him, and I don’t know why I…why I can’t just get over him.”

“Hey,” Cedar said, as he rubbed Clover’s back. “It takes time, Shrimp. Take your time. You don’t have to be okay right now.”

“But sometimes I feel like I am,” he lamented, swiping at his eyes. How many times since his little escape plan had he thought he was _done_ , ready to wipe his hands of that man? And still he clawed his way back in, relentless. “And then I’m not and it’s like I’m moving _backwards_.”

Cedar sniffled, because of course he was crying too. “It’s not linear, you know that. Same as with your Mom. One day everything’s fine, the next it’s like we lost her just yesterday.”

It was like someone had died. Like James had killed them.

Clover sobbed, as the truth of it struck him. There was a part of him, and a part of _James_ , that was lost and gone forever. He was in mourning.

Grief, at least, was something he could wrap his mind around. Not just for his parents. He’d put on a dress uniform more times than he cared to. But he still sent his team out, even though he feared it would be one of them next. It was a morbid skill, to be comfortable with death. He’d learned, over time, to forgive himself for the bad days.

Maybe here he could, too.

“Gods, Ce,” he muttered, as the tears finally slowed. “If Dad could see how pathetic I am right now, he’d– “

“Fuck him.”

Clover blinked, momentarily shocked out of his misery. He pulled back. “What?”

Cedar shook his head. “You heard me. He was an asshole. I’m sorry, but it’s true. There’s nothing wrong with you, Shrimp. Not your dynamic, not your strength, not your emotions. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that more, and sooner. I…I’m _so_ sorry.”

There was a kind of quiet fury there, in his cousin’s gray eyes. It was the strangest thing.

A hysterical laugh burst out of him, through the tears. Cedar looked a little insulted.

“I’m trying to be nice here, Shrimp.”

Clover hiccupped. Cedar snorted at him and stood, pulling out a packet of tissues from his pocket and plucking one out, then offering the rest to Clover.

“I’ve never seen you look so serious in all my _life_ ,” Clover giggled, before blowing his nose loudly. It was weirdly cathartic.

“Well, Brothers forbid we have a moment of sincerity,” Cedar said, rolling his eyes as he dabbed at them. He held out his hand to help Clover up. Clover gave him a used tissue.

Cedar stuffed it down the back of Clover’s shirt, along with his own wet tissue. “Don’t play this game with a parent,” he warned, as Clover made a face. “Snot has no effect on me anymore. Rafe sneezed right in my face last week.”

“Gross,” Clover said, as he took Cedar’s hand. He tucked the pin into his pocket and sent a final goodbye to his mother, as they walked back through the field to the car.

“Don’t get me started,” Cedar said. “I could write a whole book. You ever use one of those snot sucker things? It’s like a turkey baster, except you stick it in your kid’s nose when they’re sick and you suck out the boogers. And then you have to– “

“All right,” Clover said, as they came up on the road. “You are the King of Bodily Fluids, got it.”

“Oh, and then there’s the diapers. Can’t wait to start that up again, let me tell you. I got so many kids, Shrimp.”

“You have– “

Both their scrolls started buzzing.

Cedar frowned. “Huh, that’s…we must’ve lost signal in the field. I have like ten messages. Oh, Gods. Shit, fuck, what if something’s…”

Clover checked his own scroll, while Cedar frantically dialed. He’d missed a bunch of calls from Qrow and Faye. Qrow was at the top, so Clover called him first.

“Val’s not picking up!” Cedar exclaimed, as Clover listened to the ring.

_“Cloves? Oh, thank fuck.”_

His voice was hard to make out; it sounded like he was somewhere crowded.

“Qrow, what’s wrong?”

He put Qrow on speaker, whacking Cedar’s arm to get his attention.

_“Where the fuck are you two? Val’s water broke.”_

“What?!” Cedar exclaimed. “That’s…she…that’s early, right?”

_“Yeah, I thought so too but apparently it’s…hold on…”_

There was a small commotion and then they heard Val’s voice, coming in and out through the din.

_“Actually, the due date a doctor will…just an approximation of the…window is actually anywhere from…perfectly natural for the third child.”_

“Babe, this is not the time for an educational lecture!” Cedar said. Clover could practically see his hair graying.

“Are you at the hospital?” Clover asked, trying to get them back on track. “We can barely hear you.”

_“No we’re at the…”_ Qrow’s voice disappeared under the sounds of dogs barking, before coming back in. _“…but Faye’s got the kids at home.”_

Val’s voice cut back in.

_“I told you we’ve got time, Qrow, there’s just one more booth I want to check out.”_

He and Cedar exchanged looks.

“Babe,” Cedar said, cautiously. “Are you at the fucking Farmer’s Market?”

It took a while for the answer to come back. He thought he heard Qrow make a squawking sound. But then Val came back in, with a groan.

_“Oof, that was a big one. Can you believe Qrow’s never had a custard apple?”_

Cedar pointed at him. “This is your fault. You tempted her with your exotic fruits.”

_“Sorry!”_

Qrow moaned, miserably.

“Not you!” he and Cedar said simultaneously.

“Val,” Clover said, taking charge of the situation. “While we all defer to your medical knowledge, your husband is about to blow a gasket if you don’t go to the hospital now. We’re about an hour out of town; we can meet you there. Okay?”

_“All right, but I’ll just be sitting around.”_

Cedar let out a breath, turning his face to the heavens.

“And the father of your children shall live another day,” Clover said. “Qrow, I’m guessing you guys walked. Can you find a ride to the hospital?”

There was a murmur of voices, then Qrow said, _“Yeah, Saph’s gonna take us.”_

“Perfect, call Alice and Opal and tell them you’re on your way, then call my Aunt and Uncle and have then help Faye with the kids.”

_“Got it.”_

“Good. Keep us posted if anything changes. We’ll see you both in an hour.”

There was a brief pause.

_“Oh, I…you want me to stay at the hospital? I don’t know if that’s a good– “_

“If you say one word about your semblance, I will never suck your dick again,” Clover warned. Cedar gave him an incredulous look. “You were there when Ruby and Yang were born, right?”

_“…yeah, for part of it. But I didn’t–”_

“Then you’ll be fine. I need you to stay with Val and keep her on task. Can you do that for me?”

_“I…yeah. Okay.”_

Clover grinned. “All right, people, let’s move.”

“I love you!” Cedar shouted into the scroll, as he fumbled for his keys. He dropped his keys in the grass, then dropped his scroll when he went to pick up his keys, then dropped the keys again when he went to get the scroll. Clover shoved him away from the driver’s side, tucking his own scroll into his pocket.

“I’m driving, idiot. You’re a mess.”

Cedar hastened into the passenger seat. “I’m gonna be a dad,” he said, dazed. “Again. It’s really happening. I’m having a baby. Well, Val’s having the baby. My baby. Oh, Gods, what if I fuck up?”

A little smile tugged at his lips. “You’ll be fine,” he said.

As Clover bent to retrieve the keys from the ground, something caught his eye. He plucked it from the grass.

“Hey, check it out!” he said to Cedar, who was already buckled in and anxiously waiting for him. “Lucky you, huh?”

He winked as he handed his cousin a perfect four-leaf clover.

Cedar just stared at him.

“Shrimp, if you just wasted your luck making a stupid joke when my daughter is about to be born then I swear to the Brothers I will– “

“Relax, it doesn’t work like that,” Clover said, rolling his eyes as he started the car.

There was an awful screech, as he turned the key. Clover’s blood ran cold.

Cedar frowned. “Was that… _my_ car? I’ve never heard…I mean, we just had it serviced.”

Clover scrambled out of the car, looking around. His hand hovered over Kingfisher. “That’s not the _car_ , you miserable pencil-pusher.”

A swarm of Manticore flew over, heading straight for his mother’s village.

Alarm bells rang in the distance. Clover jumped back into the car, swinging around to head back to the village. Gods, they probably hadn’t helped the situation with their combined misery and panic.

“Sorry, Ce, looks like the roads are bad,” he said.

Cedar groaned, holding on as Clover sped down the road. “My baby girl, Shrimp.”

“She’ll be fine,” Clover assured him. “Calm down. Val is tough. They’ll both be fine. There are people here who need– “

“ _I know_ ,” Cedar snapped. “I’m just bitching, of course we’re gonna help.”

Clover pulled up to the village gates, throwing the car into park with a metallic groan. He jumped out, scanning the skies. People were already starting to panic, running for shelter as the Grimm swept through the town square.

“Ce, you can stay in the car if you want.”

“Absolutely not,” Cedar said, popping the trunk. There laid Fog Cutter, in surprisingly pristine condition. Clover looked at him skeptically, as he strapped the gauntlets to his arms. His life was cursed with cocky brawlers.

“Despite what you and Faye may think, I do still train.” Cedar said. “Came in handy for that Leviathan attack earlier this year. Which, did you know someone _stole one of my ships_ while that was happening? Can you believe people?”

“Oh, right,” Clover said. He extended Kingfisher, ready to grapple to the nearest rooftop. “That was Qrow’s kids, by the way. Try to keep up!”

He gave his cousin a little salute, before swinging himself up. He could hear Cedar sputtering as he fumbled with the dust cartridges on his wrists.

* * *

There were close to a dozen of them, all told. Not an unreasonable number, but a challenge for just two Huntsmen. Especially considering one of them had been out of the field for years.

Luckily, he and Cedar had always worked well together. They’d sparred so much growing up that they knew each other’s styles. It felt like they were back at the Academy again.

“Thank me later!” he called, hooking Cedar back just before a Manticore could dig its claws into him.

“Cute,” Cedar replied. “You’re really–down!”

Clover ducked, as Cedar fired a shot right where his head had just been. The Grimm swooping down on him shrieked as ice dust exploded in its face, obscuring its vision. Clover stabbed up with the harpoon end of Kingfisher, turning the Grimm to ash.

Just one more left. Clover grinned. “Not bad, old man. You’ve still got a few tricks up your sleeve.”

“It’s because I wear them,” Cedar huffed. He bent over, catching his breath. “Gods, how do you still do this every day? I think I pulled something.”

“Un-pull, we’re not done yet,” he said. Maybe he should have brought more alphas to Argus over the years, so Cedar could keep his punching arm fresh.

The final Manticore was the biggest one. It swooped low, shrieking as it raked its claws along the rooftops. He glanced at Cedar as the Grimm came hurtling toward them. “Lighthouse!” he called, just before it ascended on them.

Cedar knocked his fists together, creating a thick fog around them. The Grimm pulled up, confused. Clover threw his horseshoe, making a _wish_ just as the metal caught the light from above. The Manticore screeched, heading for the bright reflection, and Clover cast out a line as it flew up to the light. Kingfisher wrapped around the Grimm and he grabbed the hook as it came back around, reeling in the line as he did. The Grimm shrieked as Kingfisher wrapped around its neck like a lasso, pulling Clover up onto its back.

Bolts of ice shot toward them, as Cedar aimed toward the sound. Clover pulled up, using his line like a cross between reins and garrote, trying to expose the weak points in the Grimm. The ice grazed it, but nothing was hitting head-on. “Your aim sucks, old man!” he shouted, steering the Grimm toward where he thought Cedar was.

“Incoming!” he called, jumping off and yanking his line with all his strength.

The weight of him pulled them both to the ground. The fog was so thick, it wasn’t until the very last second that he knew he’d made his mark. Just before he hit the ground he heard Cedar shout as he punched up, Fog Cutter catching the Grimm in its vulnerable neck as Cedar fired another shot. The Manticore turned to dust, raining down on him, as Clover rolled into a landing.

Cedar shook out his hand, spitting as the fog dispersed. “Ugh. Messy work, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but someone’s gotta do it. Worth it though, huh?”

“I’ll tell you what’s worth it,” Cedar said, panting. He looked a little manic. “A nice diet soda at the end of the day. I don’t have a lot of ‘em, Shrimp. I like to take my time. Three cubes of ice, I’m telling you. Perfection.”

“You’ve reached Peak Dad,” Clover muttered, folding up Kingfisher.

Cedar smacked his forehead. “My baby! Shrimp, we gotta– “

“Thank you, young man! You’ve saved us all!”

And elderly woman approached them, flanked by several other villagers. She took Clover’s hands in hers. “I can’t thank you enough. And,” she turned to Cedar. “You as well.”

“Of course, ma’am,” Clover said. “Are there any serious injuries? We’re on our way back to Argus, we can take them straight to the hospital.”

The woman shook her head. “Just a few scrapes, nothing we can’t handle. It was _very lucky_ that you were here.”

“We were just dropping by the graveyard, to pay our respects,” Cedar cut in.

The old woman studied Clover. “You look familiar. You…you’re Amaranth’s boy, aren’t you?”

Clover sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her face lit up. It was infectious. “I used to take care of her, when she was a little girl!”

Clover blinked. “Really?”

He…never lingered, in the village here. It was too sad, for too long. Maybe he should have.

She nodded. “My name’s Rosemary, and I’ve lived in this town my whole life. What’s your name, dear?”

“Clover,” he said. “And this is Cedar, my cousin.”

“On the other side,” Cedar said, giving a polite nod.

“Ama must have named you,” she said, warm. She squeezed his hands. “Why, you look just like her. Oh, and you’re an omega! How wonderful, I think she always wanted an omega. She must have been so happy.”

Clover froze, shocked. He looked helplessly to Cedar. He swooped in, wrapping an arm around Clover’s shoulders in a comforting hug. “She died before he presented, ma’am. We’re all pretty proud of him, though.”

* * *

They made it out with minimal tea and cookies, but they were still a bit over an hour off schedule when they called Qrow back. Which meant they were ten minutes overdue on Qrow’s end, when Cedar called him from the car.

_“Are you close?”_

“Qrow? Sorry, there was a situation with some– “

_“The situation has escalated!”_ Qrow said, panicked. _“When are you getting here???”_

There was a yelp from Qrow and a scream from Val, then a clatter, as if the scroll had been dropped.

“Babe? Everything going okay?” Cedar asked, holding his scroll as Clover drove through the backroads. “We just left town, there was a Grimm attack. We’re both okay though! Are you okay, what’s happening?”

Whatever high Cedar had been riding from the return to his glory days had dispersed, and now there was only Anxious Husband mode.

_“I may have overestimated the time to labor for the third child! I need you here now!”_

“Is Opal not there?”

_“I am **not** having my bearer in the room, Cedar, you know she is…she’s overbearing and that is not a pun I swear if you make that joke I will slice you open from gut to– “_

A wrenching scream, then, _“You need to get here right now, honey, I need you here please, this baby is coming.”_

“On our way!” Cedar said, panicked. Clover flicked his pin and stepped on the gas. “We’ll go through the breathing exercises. Just…squeeze Qrow’s hand instead of mine, okay? Really give it to him, he’ll be fine.”

_“Okay, just hurry!”_

“Really just taking any opportunity to maim my boyfriend, huh?” he muttered, too low for Cedar’s scroll to pick it up.

Cedar covered the microphone. “He might as well practice now, Shrimp, you know you’re gonna be ten times worse.”

What was _that_ supposed to–

But there was no time to dwell on it. He focused his semblance as he drove, his heart pounding in his ears.

* * *

They made it to Argus in record time.

Clover dropped Cedar off in front of the hospital so he could go park the car. Good thing, too. Once he’d used every ounce of his luck to get them back to town quickly and safely, of course it was finding a parking spot that his overtaxed semblance finally gave out on. By the time he made it up to the waiting room, dizzy from driving in circles, Qrow was slumped in a chair in an abandoned corner, massaging his hand. He looked a little shaken.

“Everything okay?” he asked, dropping into the seat next to Qrow. “How’s Val?”

Qrow gave him a haunted look. “In general, or how far dilated is she? Because I know both.”

He winced. “Maybe just give me the big picture.”

Qrow waved his unabused hand. “Should be soon. She’s a champ.”

He dug through a wicker basket at his side. “Here’s your fucking custard apple. This better be worth it, because I’m never going to the Farmer’s Market again. It’s just fruits and vegetables! Why are there so many people?”

Qrow handed him a perfectly green, heart-shaped fruit. Custard apples were native to Menagerie, but a faunus-run farm somehow managed to grow them here in Argus. A little piece of their home, on the other side of the world. Clover inhaled the sweet, slightly tropical scent. The floral notes weren’t as heady as they could be; this one wasn’t quite ripe.

“Hmm, needs a bit longer. You’ll have to wait, I’m afraid.”

The alpha studied him as he placed it back in the basket, taking in his scuffed clothes and the residual puffiness around his eyes.

“How about you, Lucky Charm? You doing okay?”

Clover sighed, leaning against him. “It’s been a day.”

Qrow shifted, so he could wrap an arm around his back. His fingers lightly scratched through the short hair at the base of Clover’s neck. He leaned into the touch, as he rubbed Qrow’s knee.

“Do you think you want kids, someday?” he asked.

It was a patently ridiculous question, and Qrow would probably literally fly out the nearest window in a panic. They’d only been _officially_ dating for a month. They hadn’t discussed marriage, or bonding. Clover still hadn’t even said ‘I love you’ to Qrow. But it was all of a sudden imperative that he know what Qrow thought about the matter.

“Cloves, I…I honestly…”

“You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want to,” he said. Qrow had been so respectful of his boundaries. The least he could do was repay the favor. “I was just curious.”

Qrow shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t…I just never thought I’d have the chance, is all.”

Neither did Clover, he realized. It had never been an option. And Qrow, poor lonely Qrow…his heart ached, thinking about all the pain the other man had gone through. He squeezed Qrow’s knee, in comfort.

“What if you had the chance?” he asked, softly.

“If I…if I did.” Qrow took a shuddering breath, while Clover held his. “…yeah, I guess I do.”

His voice broke at the end of it, like he was afraid to speak. Like Clover would leave him, if he asked for what he wanted. Clover sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes.

“I think I do, too.”

Qrow pulled back, shocked. “You do?”

He nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks. Qrow brushed them away, his own eyes shining.

“You’re not just saying that, because I…”

Clover shook his head. There were so many uncertainties, so many hurdles to overcome before they got there. If Salem could be defeated. If they both lived. If they weren’t too old or too broken or too beaten down by time. But what good was saving the world, without something to fight for?

“I don’t know when. It might be years,” he said. “With everything…it might be never.”

“If we didn’t,” Qrow said, his voice rough with emotion, “I wouldn’t love you any less.”

Clover’s heart swelled, and he smiled through the tears. “I’m really sacred, Qrow.”

“I’m fucking terrified,” Qrow replied, a desperate laugh escaping his chest.

Clover cupped Qrow’s cheek with his hand, gazing at him intently. “But if there was ever anyone I could…if I was going to. If I could pick anyone. It would be you, Qrow. You’re the only one.”

He leaned forward, bringing them into a slow kiss. Qrow met his lips, so tender and soft. It felt like coming home.

They were both gasping for breath as they pulled apart. “Did we just agree to make a baby someday?” Qrow asked, bewildered.

“I think so,” he said.

They shared an unsteady laugh, foreheads pressed together.

There was the sound of a throat clearing, from above them. Clover looked up.

Cedar was standing there, hands on his hips. He had a shit-eating grin on his face and his eyes were glistening. “If you two are done canoodling,” he said, “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

* * *

When Bianca and Rafe were born, Clover had been in Atlas. He’d come a few weeks after, as the relief team once the lack of sleep had really set in for the new parents. So it was a bit of a shock to see Val holding the tiniest human he had ever seen in his life. Even more so, to hold her in his arms.

“Woof, she really shot through me,” Val said, exhausted. “She’s got your energy, Clo. Couldn’t wait to meet the world.”

Her name was Rosemary.

“Honest coincidence,” Cedar said, hands up.

“She’s perfect,” he said, sniffling. Qrow rubbed his shoulders as he gazed fondly down at the newest Ebi-Su. There was a tuft of dark hair on her head, like Val’s. But her eyes, when she deigned to grace him with her attention, were gray-blue like Cedar’s. Her little fingers curled and uncurled as she took in the world around her. She looked like a weird little alien and he loved her already.

He went to hand Rosemary back to Val, but she demurred. “Qrow, do you want to hold her?”

“Oh, I…” Qrow hesitated, glancing over at Clover. “…yeah. I’d love to.”

“You’re an A+ coach, _Uncle_ Qrow.” Val said, teasing. She gave Cedar’s arm a squeeze. “Though I think mine is cuter.”

Clover disagreed. He carefully handed Rosemary to Qrow. She was so tiny, he could practically hold her in the palms of his hands. For all his self-doubt, Qrow knew just what to do, taking care to support her head as he cradled her in his arms. He was so gentle, his face soft in wonder. Clover felt giddy, all of a sudden. The sight of Qrow holding a newborn baby was doing weird things to his heart. Maybe it was biology. Or maybe it was…

Was it _love?_

Time. He had time. He didn’t have to plan his whole life out today.

The cavalcade came in then, Faye looking bedraggled with Bianca and Rafe in tow. In the din of commotion, he pulled Cedar aside.

“Thanks for not stepping on my pick,” he said, glancing over at where Qrow was showing Rosemary to her big brother and sister.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cedar said, a smug look on his face. “We’ve had it picked for months.”

Clover rolled his eyes. His cousin was a terrible liar, and a giant sap. “Just don’t hold your breath, old man. We’ve got a world to save, first.”

He caught Qrow’s eye, and gave him secret little smile. Someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is from the Red vs. Blue soundtrack, by Trocadero. The _working_ title for this chapter was "Oops all Cedar."


	7. Love and Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosemary is baby. Qrow is caveman. Clover goes feral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI HELLO I DID NOT FORGET THIS FIC!
> 
> I also...did not intend to go nearly three months without updating it. Sorry! Part of that was life, and part of that was the very real obligation that I felt toward these characters, as we start to work toward a conclusion of this fic. Also part of that was I committed myself to this alternating POV thing and there was just SO MUCH QROW POV I wanted to get through before we next check in with Clover, and I still cut so much, and now Qrow only has ONE MORE POV CHAPTER for all his feelings. 
> 
> And then Clover demanded smut, of course. 
> 
> So, uh...they're probably all gonna be big boys like this, until we wrap. Enjoy this 15k of pure sap.
> 
> (ETA: oh oh! Just a quick shoutout that Tai's dynamic was very much inspired Firekitten and their amazing gift fic [Break the Tomb (To Grow to New Heights)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23378371). Even though I ended up going a slightly different direction, omega!Tai got in my head in a big way. Much thanks to you, Firekitten! )

_Dearest Chocolate Croissant,_

_I am pleased to hear you are well, and your family. I know that a new life can be a joyful time for everyone involved. However, I urge you to not get swept away by instinct. Our dynamic is capable of powerful love and care. But it is this capacity that can so easily be turned against us. Do not lose sight of your goals._

_Since you mentioned lasagna, I am attaching a recipe I used many years ago. Perhaps I will try it again, now that there are many mouths to feed. The key is a pinch of freshly grated nutmeg in the sauce. It must be fresh!_

_Best,_

_Pavlova_

_Hey ~~Firecracker,~~ hey ~~Pipsqueak,~~_

_~~Babe we have a protocol~~ _

_~~Don’t tell me what to~~ _

_[scribbles, then continued in a different colored pen, apparently several hours later]_

_FINE, HOT CROSS BUN AND CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE. I’LL USE THE STUPID SYSTEM. FUCK._

_Now that my bratty boyfriend isn’t looking over my shoulder, I just wanna talk about something that’s been on my mind a lot. When we were your age, your mom…uh, Big Cookie, I guess. Idk about food and Sexy Chocolate fell asleep. Anyway, Big Cookie sat me down and slapped some sense into me. I know you kids aren’t as dumb as I was back then, because your, uh…Dad Bun raised you right. But I feel like it’s worth repeating: YOU ARE NOT YOUR DYNAMIC._

_Whatever anyone says about you, especially in that gods-awful place, just know that you are your own person. It’s a part of you, but it’s not the whole story._

_That goes for all you kids, because I know you’re all reading this too. Look out for each other._

_I love you all._

_-Apparently a Cinnamon Roll_

_Dear Uncle Roll,_

_Awwww, this is so sweet. We love you, too._

_Also, BIG COOKIE? DAD BUN??????_

_WAS THAT THE BEST YOU COULD DO?_

_PFFFFFFFT [scribbles]_

_I’m telling Dad Pun you couldn’t even think of a real pastry._

_-Hot AF Pun Gun and Little Chip “It’s also a Bun” Cookie, esq._

_Would everyone PLEASE refrain from iterating on their assigned code names, it’s very confusing._

_-Vanilla Macaron_

_P.S. CC, for what it’s worth I believe Pavlova’s fears are unfounded, in this case. Much as I hate to give credit to CR._

_lol, did Ice Queen just compliment me_

_-fuck this, my system is better_

* * *

The saying was, ‘It takes a village.’

When Qrow was growing up, it took a whole tribe. And while the process was efficiently streamlined, nobody was particularly good at providing things like hugs or comfort to small children. You were expected to grow up strong, and be useful, and if you weren’t…bye. So the tribe maybe wasn’t the best example to pull from.

Nevertheless, doing this with five adults was probably a lot easier than doing it with two. Or even four. Though in that particular case, there came the eventual complication of Raven splitting town, Tai being absolutely heartbroken, Qrow alternating between furious and hurt, and Summer running triple duty as surrogate parent, alpha protector, and best friend. They were all so young and dumb and not a one of them knew what they were doing with either Yang or Ruby. They bit off more than they could chew and they let their own problems keep them from swallowing.

He wondered, sometimes, just how long Raven had known she would leave before pulling the trigger. When her concept of true family had transitioned back, from this new life and better future, to the old cynical version. It wasn’t a nice thought to dwell on, but it kept creeping back in.

In any case, the Ebi-Sus were a much more well-oiled machine. They were older, more financially and emotionally stable, and with a whole network of additional support around them. Him and Clover included. And they’d done it twice before. Which was good, because baby Rosemary was throwing everything she could at them.

Sometimes in projectile form.

“I have to take a conference call, can you guys tell I have spit-up on my shirt? Or should I change?” Cedar said, wandering into the kitchen. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, and his eyes were bloodshot.

“Change,” Clover said, at the same time as Qrow said, “You’re fine.”

Qrow was sitting at the kitchen table with the kids, playing Go Fish and losing, while Clover stirred something on the stovetop. Whatever he was making was a huge production, with multiple components. Cedar had already been expelled from the kitchen once for getting in the way.

“Daddy, I think you look very pretty,” Bianca said, blinking innocently. “Uncle Qrow, do you have any Kings?”

Qrow grumbled as he handed her all three Kings. That she knew he had, because he had just asked for them two rounds back. These kids were ruthless. Bianca cheered as she laid down her book.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Cedar said, distractedly. “Shrimp, you didn’t even look.”

“I have to stir this!” Clover protested, still not looking up from his pot. “Do you want lumpy sauce? Besides, you wore that shirt yesterday. You’re lucky they can’t smell you through the screen.”

Cedar looked down, uncomprehending. He lifted the collar of his shirt and gave an experimental sniff. His face turned faintly red.

“Whatever, Qrow says I look fine!” he sputtered, marching out of the kitchen.

“Rae-Rae, do you have any sixes?”

“Go fish!”

Qrow leaned over, pointing. “That one’s the six, Monster Truck.”

“Uncle Qrow, you’re not supposed to look!”

“Kiddo, if I were cheating I’d be winning,” he said.

Rafe reluctantly handed Bianca his six. He still had more matches that Qrow. A four-year-old. Qrow was losing to a four-year-old, who still mixed up the six and the nine. And was getting rapidly bored, by the looks of it.

“I wanna play outside!”

Qrow ruffled his hair. “After this round, okay? Your sister’s almost done creaming us.”

He’d known what he was getting into, coming to Argus. He knew they’d be staying with Clover’s cousins. He knew there would be children, and at some point a baby involved. And while he was still getting used to just how _many_ people were in this house _all the time_ , what he hadn’t anticipated was the degree to which playing house with Clover would maybe, sort of, kind of, be _really nice._ It was different from traveling with his nieces and their friends, because he wasn’t the only adult around. The multigenerational aspect was kind of comforting. It actually…weirdly reminded him of being back in the tribe, except if everyone in the tribe loved each other and showed each other real, open affection.

So maybe not so much like the tribe.

Maybe Rosemary had made them all baby-crazy, and he was just a giant sap.

“Aww, you want some help?” Clover asked, glancing over his shoulder.

Qrow tried to hide his dopey grin. “It’s Go Fish, Cloves. How are you going to help?”

Clover sauntered over, his sauce apparently nonessential where Qrow was involved. He wrapped his hand around Qrow’s, lifted it to his lips, and kissed Qrow’s one remaining card. Qrow’s mouth went dry.

“Uncle Qrow, do you have any Jacks?”

Clover laughed softly, plucking the card from his hand and sliding it over. “No accounting for skill. Bibi has a great memory.”

“Kissing is gross,” Bianca informed them, carefully arranging the offending card on the table so she wouldn’t have to touch the kiss spot.

“Just wait ‘till you’re older, kid,” he murmured, eyes on Clover. Who was still holding his hand. He watched helplessly as Clover slowly pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Soft lips caressed his skin, dragging gently across his rings.

“Maybe next time you’ll get lucky,” Clover said with a wink, before turning back to his sauce.

The card game was a foregone conclusion with Qrow eliminated, but it was important for Bianca to practice good sportsmanship and Rafe to practice his counting, so they went through the motions of tallying everything up. Just as Rafe was all but crawling over the table in boredom, Faye walked in. She looked weirdly accomplished, as she deposited a small bundle on the table.

“Here’s your mail, Shrimp. Fuck, it’s hot out there.”

He should have expected it, given Cedar’s choice of weapon, but the Ebi-Su house was one of the few in Argus with ice dust cooling. He couldn’t blame them for the indulgence, even though they only used it a few months out of the year. The heat would be miserable with kids. A new baby, even more so.

Even Qrow had been forced to give up his many layers in the summer heat wave. He was down to his white undershirt at the moment, a choice which had the pleasant side effect of constantly drawing Clover’s eye. 

Clover turned, shooting his cousin a grateful smile. “Thank you so much, Faye. I really appreciate you taking the time to visit the base, and I know Ce does too.”

“No problem,” she said, cracking open a seltzer from the fridge. She pressed it against her face to cool down. “It was easy as pie. Cedar’s Girl Friday has it on lockdown. Qrow, I think there’s something for you, too. I can’t keep track of all these stupid names. Am I a croissant?”

“You’re nothing, because nobody knows you,” Clover said. “And you’re almond flavored.”

“Huh,” Faye said. “I do like those.”

“Everybody reads everybody else’s crap anyway,” Qrow said, digging through the bundle. It was true. There was nothing he wrote to Ruby or Yang that couldn’t be shared with the rest of them. Besides, he liked the idea of Ice Queen sorting through his letters and getting pissed off.

“Oh, good,” Faye said. “Because I absolutely read them all already. Didn’t really understand a lot of it, though. Qrow, you want me to trim your hair now, or after dinner?”

Qrow’s hair situation was getting ridiculous. He’d had a trim in Atlas but then, well…everything happened. It wasn’t like he could just pop over to a salon with a warrant out for his arrest. And then they came to Argus. Val had touched up Clover’s hair twice since they’d been here, but just when Qrow finally felt like he was ready for his own cut, enter baby Rosemary. Nobody wanted to be the one to ask the sleep-deprived mother to Do A Thing.

After two weeks of getting annoyed at his own bangs, Faye—who maintained her own shaggy cut—had offered to help him out. With only minimal teasing.

“Maybe after dinner?” he said, eyeing the squirming Rafe. “The kids are going nuts.”

“Could you help me with mine, too?” Clover asked.

Faye frowned. “Shrimp, you _just_ got a cut.”

“Yeah, but Val didn’t take enough off the top again. It’s already getting curly, look.”

Clover paused his stirring and ran a hand through the front of his hair, to illustrate the point. Qrow completely neglected the letter from Ruby he’d been reading, drawn in by the sight of the little wave that fell over Clover’s forehead as he tried to sweep his hair back. That Clover’s hair went _curly_ when it grew out was both a surprise and a delight. Along with the little huff of frustration Clover made every morning after his shower, trying and failing to get his chestnut locks to behave as they had in Atlas.

Look, Qrow wasn’t about to tell Clover what to do with his hair…but.

Faye had no such filter. “What, you mean she gave you an actual good haircut? Just keep it like that, Shrimp.”

She turned and winked at Qrow. That little shit.

“Uncle Qroooooow,” Rafe whined, tugging on his arm. “Can we go outside now?”

“Rae-Rae, can Uncle Qrow read his mail first?” Clover said, gently.

Right. That’s what he was doing. Not staring at Clover.

“I got it,” Faye said. “Go on ahead, kids, I’ll meet you out there.”

The kids ran out in a whirl of giggles. Clover laughed.

“Smooth, Faye. Alice and Opal too much for you?”

Val and Cedar had a lot of friends, so the stream of visitors since bringing the baby home was constant. Today it was Val’s parents, themselves an alpha/omega pair. They’d been in the living room for about an hour. He had met Alice and Opal a few times, most notably at Rosemary’s birth, but Clover hadn’t pushed him into getting to know them well. Mostly because Clover was terrified of Opal.

With good reason. At the hospital, the omega had pulled Qrow aside and advised him to ‘lock it down’ while he still could, because Clover wasn’t getting any younger and they didn’t want to have a _high-risk pregnancy._ It was…a lot of pressure.

Faye winced. “No, they’re fine. It’s just…she’s feeding again.”

Clover rolled his eyes. “It’s just a boob, Faye. You _have_ them.”

“I _know,_ but it’s…back me up, Qrow. It’s weird. In that context. I don’t wanna look!”

Qrow could relate, but he’d gotten over it about…nineteen years ago. He smirked. “Does Cedar know you think his wife is hot?”

“I don’t…!” Faye sputtered, looking not unlike her younger brother. “Shrimp, your boyfriend is very rude. I don’t think that _Val_ is…”

“How am I supposed to know, Faye?” Clover said, with a wink. “I’m afraid there’s not enough alpha dick for my tastes. Speaking of hair, is that a gray one?”

Clover reached out, plucking the offending strand from his cousin’s head. He held it in front of her face, taunting.

Faye grabbed the hair. “Did you…I do not have…you _did_ this!”

Clover put his hands up. “Not how my semblance works.”

Faye whirled on him. “ _You_ did this!”

Even Qrow didn’t think that was true, and if he did, he wasn’t about to say anything. Clover was a very persuasive person.

“Heh, what’s wrong with having a few gray hairs?” he asked, tossing his overgrown bangs back in classic Branwen style.

Clover gave him a dark look. “Mmm, I think it’s sexy, on the right person.”

“Ugh, Cedar is right, you two are gross,” Faye said, heading to the back door. “Qrow, I should shave your head.”

 _Gods_ , they were actually alone. For once.

Clover grinned at him, as she left. Apparently, he was on the same page. “I finally get you alone, Qrow Branwen.”

“Yeah?” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Did you have anything particular you wanted me for?”

A timer went off, and Clover cursed. “Uhhh, one sec,” he said.

Qrow chuckled, as he flipped through the letters. “Take your time, Lucky Charm. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

There wasn’t much to read today, though. Soon he looked up at Clover, softly humming to the himself as he cooked. Qrow’s heart skipped a beat.

It really wasn’t fair, that the sexiest man in Remnant had picked _Qrow,_ to spend his days with. It wasn’t fair, it barely made any sense, but there was _absolutely_ no way he was letting anyone take this from him. Clover was simply the perfect human being. He shone like the sun. He put his all into everything. He was compassionate and thoughtful and whip-smart, and he…he _fit_ , with Qrow, in a way Qrow had never fit with anyone, before.

A small part of his brain, that was increasingly loud and frankly sounded a bit like Summer, insistently put together the thought that if Clover was so great, and Qrow felt like he belonged with Clover, then maybe Qrow was also…

Well. On top of all of that, Clover was making…uh. He was making….

“What the fuck are you making, anyway?” Qrow asked, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Lasagna,” Clover replied. “It’s tradition.”

Clover has been steadily filling his cousins’ freezer with meals that they could easily prepare, once the two of them left for Vacuo. Hence the lasagna. It looked like just a lot of pots and pans, to Qrow. And some kind of hand crank. He was afraid to even go over there.

“You wanna help?” Clover asked. Fuck, he looked so excited.

“I…probably shouldn’t.” Qrow said. Clover gave him a warning look.

“Look, you can…I’ll give you something really easy to do,” Clover said. He looked like he really wanted the company. Which was dangerous for Qrow, because he really liked to be that company.

“Are you done with the knife?” he asked, jerking his head toward the cutting board.

Clover looked down. “Oh! Yeah. Uh…I might have to cut the noodles a bit, but…you know, I can use a smaller knife. Would that help you feel better?”

The omega brandished the absolutely enormous knife that he’d just been chopping spinach with. Qrow nodded frantically. Clover put it aside and plucked a smaller one from the knife block. Smaller than the palm of his hand, with a pink handle.

“How sharp is that?” he asked, cautiously.

“Qrow,” Clover chided, “A sharp knife is safer than a blunt one, you should know that.”

Qrow knew nothing of the sort. He could barely make toast without disaster.

Clover snorted. He whacked the blade of the knife against his palm several times, giving Qrow a _temporary heart attack_ , then held up his hand to show Qrow the unbroken skin. “Relax, this is Bianca’s play-knife. All I have to do now is cut pasta. Which I could do with my teeth.”

Of course, Bianca had a knife. This family. Then again, it wasn’t like Qrow could talk.

“Is there a reason you couldn’t?” Qrow grumbled, as Clover beckoned him over.

“Well, it would be unsanitary,” Clover said. “Here, grate this cheese.”

Clover handed him a box grater and a ball of cheese. This, he could do. He’d made enough grilled cheese sandwiches for Ruby and Yang, over the years. Of course, half of those ended up burned on the outside and cold on the inside. But the cheese grater was harmless.

They were working in a comfortable silence when Val came in, Rosemary resting on her shoulder while she patted the baby’s back. She leaned against the counter and groaned.

“Four years of pre-med, four in med school, _twelve years_ on the job and oh by the way, _two_ human children successfully raised past infancy, and she still thinks I don’t know what a good latch is!”

Clover snorted. “Feel free to hide in here for a bit.”

Rosemary gave a soft burp.

Qrow’s heart did a weird thing. He looked from her tiny fingers, to her soft tuft of hair, to her gray-blue eyes, which were blinking in sleepiness. And then over to Clover, who was staring at _him_ with equal wonder. A little electric spark passed between them.

“By the way, Qrow,” Val said, oblivious to the exchange. “Ma thinks you should freeze some of your sperm so Clo can still have your baby if you die horribly.”

Qrow grated the tip of his finger.

“Shit!” he muttered, pulling his hand back and sucking the blood from his hand. A little push of aura quickly closed the scrape, but he still flushed in embarrassment.

“Careful, that’s sharper than it looks,” Val said.

“Qrow is not going to _die horribly_ ,” Clover said, aghast.

Realistically, he might. They led dangerous lives. The cheese grater, for example. But he definitely was not about to jerk off into a cup so Clover could carry on the Branwen line without him.

“I’m not freezing my sperm,” Qrow snapped, picking out the little sliver of skin from the cheese and tossing it in the trash. “Did I just ruin this, Cloves?”

“Nah, you caught it before you started bleeding. It’s getting cooked anyway.”

Rosemary gurgled in agreement.

Clover might be a bit biased about his bodily fluids, considering the things they regularly did to each other. But Val didn’t protest either, so he shrugged and continued.

“She also thinks you should freeze some of your eggs because you’re about to be thirty-five, which as a doctor and a 37-year-old…yeesh.”

“She didn’t even know I was an omega until a month and a half ago!”

Val touched the tip of her nose with one finger, then pointed at Clover. “Exactly. You held out on her, Clo. Look, she’s been trying to teach my newborn the ABCs so she can get into a good preschool. I’m not saying it’s a rational thought.”

She gazed at Rosemary fondly, kissing her head as she swayed back and forth. “You don’t care about test scores, do you, sweet baby? You just want to eat, sleep and poop.”

“Nobody is freezing anything except this lasagna,” Clover said, his tone firm.

“Perfectly fair,” Val said. “Don’t mind her, she’s just got baby fever. Pretty common around these parts, huh?”

Qrow had been on the upswing with the cheese, so at least he didn’t cut himself when his brain broke for the second time in five minutes.

“What?!” Clover sputtered. “I…I’m still on…”

“We’re not…we haven’t even…”

“We’re not even thinking about kids,” Clover lied.

“Right now,” he added. Honestly, it had to be at least a _bit_ believable.

Because they _were_ thinking about kids.

All the time. About how many they wanted, the merits of boys versus girls, what they might look like, where they might live. It was a future they were both so scared to want that instead of sitting neatly it kept popping up. One minute they’d be quietly enjoying each other’s company, and then the next they’d be debating which was better, red eyes or green. Inevitably, five minutes into that pseudo-argument, Clover would play his ultimate hand by ripping Qrow’s clothes off and riding him into the sunset. Val and Cedar weren’t the only ones low on sleep, these days.

“Uh huh.” Val said. “And I suppose Clo was just _inviting you over_ , when I was awake feeding my baby at midnight.”

If he recalled correctly—which was debatable, considering his state at the time—Clover’s exact words were _‘I want you to fucking come in me right now, alpha.’_ So…kind of an invitation, but a pretty rude one.

“You, uh…heard that? Upstairs?” he asked, blushing furiously.

“I like to walk around, when I’m burping her.”

Case in point, as Val slowly paced the kitchen.

“Ah. We’ll…uh. Keep it down,” Clover said, blushing. “Qrow, can you mix that into the rest of the spinach, please?”

Well _now_ he was polite. Qrow obliged, adding the cheese to the bowl Clover had going. Stirring was less dangerous.

Clover had won that round, by the way. Qrow would accept pretty much any reality that included Clover pinning him down and grinding into his knot, and last night he’d been forced to admit that red eyes were lovely and any child would be lucky to have them. And also that his dick belonged to one Clover Ebi.

“I appreciate it,” Val said. She swiped her finger through the sauce on the back burner, making a noise of appreciation. “Gods, that’s good. You’re a lifesaver, Clo.”

“It’s the least we can do, for hosting us for so long,” Clover said.

We. Us. It was automatic. They were a unit, a package deal.

Rosemary cooed, and he and Clover exchanged lovelorn looks.

Qrow had never been happier.

Val made her way, reluctantly, back into the living room to entertain her parents. Clover started assembling the lasagna, talking Qrow through each step. It was nice to be included, even if he was just watching and listening. It was funny, he’d seen Clover cook countless times since leaving Atlas. And still, it never failed to impress him.

Faye came back in a while later, in search of juice boxes. As she was rifling through the refrigerator, Cedar burst into the kitchen. He pointed at his sister, incredulous.

“Faye. You did not.”

“What?” Faye said, over her shoulder.

“I can’t _believe_ you. She is my _daughter_.”

Qrow tensed. Clover whipped around, alarmed. “Did something happen with the kids?”

“Oh, I can assure you, she is one-hundred-percent woman,” Faye said, standing and kicking the refrigerator door shut. She tucked both juice boxes under one arm and polished her nails on her shirt with the other hand.

Qrow was utterly confused. “What’s happening?”

Cedar turned to him, a look of anguish on his face. “I just wrapped a conference call–which by the way, Shrimp, I totally _did not need_ to change my shirt for. After, I keep my Lieutenant on the line to go over details. We catch up for a bit, I tell her about the baby, and what does she tell me? How it’s so great that my _sister_ is in _Argus_ , and how much she enjoyed _meeting_ her, and how nice it was for her to pick up the messages when she must be so busy with her _girlfriend_ , oh wait she doesn’t _have_ a girlfriend? Oh, ha ha, that’s so funny!”

Cedar’s voice took on an increasingly high-pitched, fake flirtatious tone.

A look of horror fell on Clover’s face. “Faye, she’s like ten years younger than you.”

Faye mimed holding her scroll up to her face. “Hello, kettle? This is pot. You’re black.”

Qrow massaged his temple. This family was crazy. “I’m sorry…I’m still not getting it.”

“Faye is screwing Lieutenant Moss,” Clover said, rolling his eyes. “The pilot, when we came here from Atlas.”

Cedar looked visibly pained at the wording.

Faye cleared her throat in a self-satisfied manner, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Oh,” he said. Was that supposed to be upsetting? Qrow hadn’t gotten a good look at her, but she seemed nice enough. And Faye was…well. Faye.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re all upset about,” Faye said. “You’re the one who made her a revolutionary with your little delivery service, Ce. Besides, it’s the perfect cover! I only have so many friends who still work on base. It would look weird if I kept going over there. But it makes total sense if I’m just visiting so we can f– “

Cedar glared.

“…flirt,” Faye finished. “Look, if you really want to I can break it off, but it’s not gonna be easy. Once you go Faye, you never turn away.”

Clover and his cousin made identical expressions of disgust.

“I kinda like this mail duty, though,” Faye said. “My contacts in Argus were getting pretty thin. Hey, is that Vanilla Macaron girl hot? She sounds hot, from her letters.”

“No,” Cedar said.

“ _Please_ don’t,” Clover said, cringing.

Qrow shrugged. “She’s okay, if you like uptight girls.”

Faye gave him finger guns while Clover stared at him, shocked. “Qrow, you were out but now you’re _back in!_ I’m gonna make you look so hot, Shrimp’s not gonna know what hit him.”

He wasn’t really having a lot of trouble in that department, but sure.

“Faye,” Cedar said, “You can’t just _dump_ Moss, she’s a good woman! Gods, you always do this!”

“What do I always– “

“My best friend from combat school. My TA from the Academy. _Two_ members of my—where are my children?”

Faye waved him off. “They’re playing outside.”

“Unsupervised?” Cedar said, panicked. “Rafe’s only four!”

“Bianca’s eight, that’s the same difference as me and Shrimp!” Faye said, gesturing to Clover. “The big one can watch the little one. When we were kids, Mom and Dad would just shove us out there, and what’s the worst thing we ever– “

The two Argus Ebis froze, then tripped over each other in their haste out the door.

“I think I’m supposed to be insulted by that,” Clover said, once they were alone in the kitchen again. “Or there’s something I’m repressing. You don’t really think _Winter_ is hot, do you?”

“I believe I said, _if_ you like uptight girls.”

“And do you?” Clover asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Hmm,” Qrow said, faking a thoughtful look. “I prefer bossy omegas.”

“Oh?” Clover said, crossing his arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. “Tell me what you like about them.”

“Well, it’s not just any bossy omega,” he said, leaning against the counter. “Specifically, ones with brown hair, green eyes…with a bit of blue. More of a teal, I guess.”

“That’s very specific,” Clover murmured. He pushed off from the counter, taking a step closer.

“You could say that,” he said. “About this tall,” he held up a hand just above his own head.

“An excellent height,” Clover agreed, advancing a little closer. “Is that all?”

“One more thing,” he said, as Clover stood directly in front of him. He reached down, grabbing Clover’s ass and tugging him in the rest of the way. “A nice tight ass. One you could just get lost in. One that you want to spend all day just buried– “

“Kiss me,” Clover ordered.

Bossy.

They made out like teenagers for a good five minutes, until a hiss from the stovetop drew Clover’s attention. The big pot of water Clover had put on to boil was going so vigorously that water was spitting out over the side to evaporate on the stovetop.

“Shit!” Clover said, rushing over to turn the heat down. “Uh, we should probably finish this before we fool around any more. It’s getting pretty _steamy_ in here.”

Qrow groaned. “Please stop.”

Clover winked and stuck his tongue out.

“Wait a minute,” Qrow said. “We?”

Clover gave him a wicked grin. “O-ho, did you think you were getting off the hook that easy, Branwen? No, you’re building one of these bad boys.”

“I’m…what now?”

“You saw me make the first one, right?” Clover said. “That one’s to freeze. So now you’re gonna make the second one, for us to eat tonight.”

“I didn’t think there was gonna be a test!” he said, panicked. Gods, he had been terrible in school. Except for the parts where you killed things.

“It’s open book,” Clover reassured him, spreading his arms wide. “And consider me your book.”

This was not his preferred way of opening up Clover.

“Lucky Charm,” he said, already trying to weasel his way out of this. “I just hurt myself on a cheese grater. I’m not gonna be able to do…all that.”

He gestured to the assembled lasagna that Clover had made. It was like a modern marvel of technology.

Clover waved him off. “Qrow, I’ve seen you in battle. There’s no way this is harder than wielding a _scythe_.”

“A scythe that I’ve had since I was a _teenager._ You didn’t see me when I was training.”

Seriously, there had been…a lot of mishaps. A _lot_.

“Well, everyone’s gotta start somewhere,” Clover said, cheerfully. “Come on, please?”

Clover gave him doe-eyes. Fuck.

He made a low noise of exasperation, turning his face to the ceiling in defeat. Clover did a little victory dance.

To his credit, Clover started him easy, putting down the first layer of sauce and showing him how to boil the sheets of pasta and lay them in the pan like a hammock. And then he was hands off, talking Qrow through the next layer.

“You know you can buy these frozen at the store.” Qrow quipped, gently dolloping the spinach-cheese mixture over the pasta. He felt like he was handling a dust crystal, he was concentrating so hard. “It’s a lot easier.”

“But then it wouldn’t have the secret ingredient.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s the secret ingredient?”

Clover tapped him on the nose. “Qrow _obviously_ it’s…”

Qrow paused, looking up. Clover was staring into the lasagna pan, where Qrow had been focused on oh-so-carefully spreading the spinach over the delicate pasta. His cheeks were flushed, and as he glanced up to meet Qrow’s gaze there was a sparkle of something powerfully affectionate in his bright eyes. It was Clover’s now-familiar _‘I’m thinking about having your baby’_ face dialed up to eleven. Qrow froze, pinned in place.

“…what?”

Clover cleared his throat, snapping out of whatever spell he’d been under. “Um. Nutmeg. There’s a pinch of nutmeg in the white sauce.”

“Oh,” he said. He gestured to the pan. “How am I doing, is this okay?”

“You’re doing _amazing,_ ” Clover said, wrapping his arms around Qrow’s waist. “I’m so proud of you.”

Qrow had just spooned a little cheese and spinach; he didn’t see what the big deal was. “It’s not rocket science,” he said, looking around. “Okay, now the red sauce, right?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Clover said. He kissed the side of Qrow’s head, peering over his shoulder as he slotted himself up against Qrow’s back.

“Who’s distracting now?” Qrow grumbled, trying to focus on achieving the perfectly even layer that Clover had done. He was probably ten times slower than Clover at this, but he didn’t want to mess it up. “I hope your family didn’t want to eat tonight.”

“They’ll be fine,” Clover said, with a soft laugh.

“Tell that to the lady that’s breastfeeding. Now what?”

“More pasta,” Clover said.

Fuck, that was the hard part. He turned to the pot of boiling water, loosening himself from the omega’s hold so he could concentrate. How had Clover done this?

“One piece at a time,” Clover coached him. “Just lay it flat in the water, make sure it’s submerged, then the next one. You’ll do three total. I can help if you want.”

Qrow shook his head. “No, I wanna figure this out.”

He touched the fresh pasta, gently trying to lift it. His fingers hesitated, feeling the paper-thin sheets of dough. “I’m worried I’m gonna break it.”

“You won’t,” Clover assured him. “It’s stronger than you think. Use the towel to help you fold it over your hand.”

Ah. That was the trick, knowing how to handle it. The floured towel acted like a sling, helping him flip the top of the dough onto his palm. Then the flat surface of his hand was a softer and more stable base to lift the pasta fully. He lowered it into the water like he’d seen Clover do, followed by two more sheets of pasta.

“Good,” Clover said, nodding.

“You don’t have to flatter me, Lucky Charm. It’s not like I’m not gonna put out.”

“I’m serious,” Clover said, grinning. “You’re doing well. Most people are afraid to get burned.”

Clover moved in to nuzzle at Qrow’s hair again, but he batted him off with the strainer. “Stop, gods, I need to focus.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Clover said. “I can’t help it that you’re hot when you cook.”

“Now you know how _I_ feel,” Qrow shot back, as he fished the cooked pasta from the water. He rinsed it like Clover had done, then layered it in the pan. He spread some of the white sauce over that, then more cheese. “Okay, what’s next?”

Clover gave him a million-lien smile. “Now you just…keep going.”

He continued on like that, building up the layers, Clover coaching him as needed. Pasta, spinach, red sauce. More pasta, white sauce, cheese. Repeat. Before he knew it, he was folding the edges of the pasta back over the top, making a nice tight package, and topping it with the last of the white sauce and cheese. At Clover’s instruction, he covered the dish in foil and popped it in the oven. Clover set a timer on his scroll.

Qrow looked around him, dazed. He was _sweating._ He felt roughly like he did after battling Grimm for twenty-four hours straight. And yet, miraculously, he was uninjured. “Did I actually…?”

Clover crowded him up against the counter. “You just made a lasagna,” he said, kissing the corner of Qrow’s mouth.

“I…” he was at a loss for words. “I mean, you made everything. I just stuck it together.”

“Nah, that’s not hard, it’s just tedious,” Clover said. He rubbed Qrow’s shoulders, the back of his neck, easing the tension from his muscles. “Qrow, I don’t know if you appreciate the degree to which I just threw you into the deep end. You cooked fresh pasta! Perfectly!”

“I…I just…I mean you were right there…”

“I didn’t touch a single thing,” Clover said, smug. “You can’t deny it. It looked good and you know it.”

Ugh. Now he’d set some kind of _precedent._

“I made a lasagna,” he conceded.

Clover laughed in triumph, then leaned in for a giddy kiss. It started sweet but quickly deepened, until Qrow had to pull back with a gasp. A heady scent hit his nostrils, and he groaned against Clover’s mouth.

“Gods, did that really get you that worked up?”

He’d been concentrating so hard, he hadn’t noticed. But now it was like getting hit with a truck. A very sweet-smelling truck. That was driving south at top speed.

Clover practically _purred_ against him. “That was so fucking hot, Qrow, you don’t even _know.”_

Qrow let out a low growl as he brought their lips together. Clover moaned into him, wrapping his arms around Qrow’s neck. He kept it slow, just enjoying the gentle feel of Clover in his arms, Clover’s soft lips caressing his, Clover’s body pressed against him.

It felt like _home._

Would it still be like this, when it was them with their kids? This easy sensuality, arousal flowing slow like honey over the edges of their bond?

Gods, they…they could be _bonded._ Clover could be his _mate_.

Now that the possibility of children was out there, it felt like everything was suddenly on the table. It was an awe-inspiring and terrifying display. _‘I want to be with you for now, until you push me away_ ’ had turned into, _‘I never want to let you go.’_ Into, _‘I want to grow old with you.’_ Into, _‘I would follow you to the end of the world. I would give up my name and be yours.’_

Well, now he was just being sappy. Qrow Ebi. Clover Branwen. Qrow Ebi-Branwen. Qrow and Clover Branwen-Ebi.

“What are you thinking about?” Clover asked, pulling back and tilting his head curiously.

“Just you,” he admitted, before he could think too hard about it.

He watched the slow smile bloom on Clover’s face, like wildflowers unfurling to face the sun.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You know…” Clover said. “If we’re gonna…”

His eyes flicked down, then back up again.

“I mean…we should probably practice some more,” Clover finished, drawing in close. His arms unhooked from Qrow’s neck, hands straying lower.

“Practice,” he repeated, breathless. Clover’s hands played over his chest, pausing to tease his nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt. Qrow drew in a sharp breath.

“Just so…when the time comes, we’re ready to…”

“Training,” he said, his lips ghosting over Clover’s.

“Mmm-hmm” Clover said, nodding slightly as Qrow kissed his way along his jaw. Down the omega’s neck. “Preparation is very importan— _ahh!_ ”

And with that little cry, suddenly Qrow was rock hard. He licked below Clover’ ear, down his sensitive neck, drinking in the scent. Relishing the way the omega squirmed under his hands. “What about the lasagna?” he murmured, into Clover’s pulse point.

“What?” Clover panted.

“The, uh…” he jerked his head toward the oven. It was hard to think with Clover pulling him in by the belt loops and grinding against him like that.

“Forty minutes,” Clover said, voice high and breathy. “Then you can take the foil off, then twenty more uncovered, and— _Qrow!”_

He kissed over the little bite he’d just made, soothing the sensitive skin. “If we start _right now_ ,” he said, voice almost a growl. “I can only knot you once, but _bet_ I can make you come twice. What do you think about that?”

“I think I like the odds of—“

“Whoops! Don’t mind me, just getting some water for the new mom.”

Qrow’s erection withered and died, as Clover’s ancient doctor bustled in and poured a tall glass of water.

Clover leapt back, clapping a hand over his neck. “Dr. V! I…didn’t know you were coming.”

The older omega laughed. “Didn’t know you were either, kid, but don’t stop on my account. You two might want to open up a window, though. It’s a bit ripe in here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Clover mumbled, his face scarlet.

She departed with a final cackle and a wave.

Qrow stared at Clover. Clover stared at Qrow. Finally, Clover scrunched up his face.

“You don’t still wanna…”

“Zwei,” Qrow said.

It was an extremely appropriate use of the term.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Clover said, sighing in relief. “I need at least forty minutes to recover from that.”

“Oh!” Dr. V ducked her head back in. “I know I’m off the clock, kid, but don’t let Opal scare you about that egg freezing bullshit. You should be perfectly fertile well into your forties. Plenty of time to screw around before you have to make that decision. Which…I will let you get back to. Ha! Someone in this house ought to be having sex, at least.”

When they were alone, Clover threw open every window while Qrow sat at the kitchen table in a sort of sexually frustrated shock. As Clover started running water for the dishes, he felt a terrible sense of déjà vu. Down to the scene of the crime. At least this time he hadn’t been–

“So what happened with Zw—“

“Nope.”

* * *

The next day was calmer.

Beach season was a little slow this year, what with the flow of Atlesians on summer break cut off. So the crowds were a lot more manageable than Qrow had seen in the past. Which was good, because the beaches in Argus sucked, in Qrow’s opinion. The sand was rough and littered with kelp, the water was frigid, and half the time they got fogged out. He could only chalk it up to miserable landlocked tourists that anyone tried to go there at all.

The only thing that made it at all bearable was the sight of Clover in his swim trunks. And the feel of Clover’s hands rubbing sunscreen on his back.

“I think you need to go a little lower.”

Clover flicked his ear. “Qrow, sun protection is no laughing matter. I bet you burn in the shade, you’re so pale.”

He did. A projected aura and staying fully dressed went a long way, but he wasn’t opposed to Clover’s preference to strip him and rub him down like a holiday roast. This wasn’t so bad, he supposed. Under the shade of their umbrella, with a cool drink in his hand–a juice box was less sexy than a cocktail, but that was his life now. And that life included Clover touching him all over, for far longer than was strictly necessary. The beach was not his scene at _all_ , but it had its perks.

“Uncle Clover, Uncle Qrow, aren’t you done yet? I wanna go swimming!”

Bianca stood in front of them, hands on her hips. It was just her with them today, a little solo trip to help ease the transition of the new baby. The Ebi-Su kids were as pale as him, and Clover had already obsessively ensured she was properly sunscreened.

“Cool it, Mustang, I gotta do your Uncle Clover first.”

Bianca huffed, turning back to the hole she was digging. Just because.

Clover leaned over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Is that how you meant to phrase that?”

“I stand by what I said. Come on, you take any longer and I’m gonna need to go for a cold swim.”

There was no way he was getting in that water. He reversed their positions, squeezing sunscreen onto his hand and warming it up in his palms before working it into the tanned expanse of Clover’s back.

Clover let out a hum, as he worked the lotion in. Qrow leaned closer, suddenly noticing something.

“Do you…” he leaned in. “You have freckles, on your back.”

He had learned a lot about Clover, these past six weeks. But he did _not_ remember the light smattering of freckles being there when they’d first started sleeping together.

Clover looked over his shoulder. “Do I? Where?”

Qrow kissed the spot in question, right between Clover’s shoulder blades. And then the next one. And then the next one.

“Qrow, please,” Clover murmured. “I get the point.”

“Do you?” he said, going for number four. He was just getting started.

Clover batted him off, laughing. “I didn’t realize. Must be all the sun I’m getting.”

It had been overcast for twenty out of the last thirty days. But he supposed, compared to Atlas, it was scorching. Must be all that shirtless jogging, which was also scorching. Hot. 

“I used to get them on my face, when I was a kid,” Clover said, smiling faintly. “My summer spots, Ma used to call them. I could only get them here; it was too cold in Atlas. Gods, between this and the hair I really _am_ going feral.”

Faye had refused to trim Clover’s hair after doing Qrow’s. Which was the bigger favor, if you asked him. Though true to her word, Clover showed…a lot of appreciation, for his new look. She’d taken it much shorter in the back than he usually did, giving him an overall neater look.

Qrow was cleaning up, and Clover was going to seed.

“I think you’d look fucking hot, with freckles,” Qrow murmured, spinning Clover around. “Right…here.”

He kissed the tip of Clover’s nose. Clover’s eyes fluttered shut.

“And here.” A kiss to Clover’s left cheek. “…and here.” A kiss to Clover’s right.

“That’s it,” Clover said, eyes still shut. “You’ve just named all the places. What are you gonna do now?”

“I was thinking about here,” Qrow said, leaning in and touching Clover’s lips to his.

“ _Qrow,_ ” Clover said, against his mouth. The other man opened his eyes, his mouth split in a hopeless grin. Kinda hard to kiss him when he was smiling so hard. 

“Uncle Clover! Stop _kissing_ so we can go in the _water_.”

Clover let out a laugh, pulling back. “The lady beckons,” he said, turning around. “Has it been fifteen minutes, Bibi?”

Bianca groaned an exaggerated little girl groan. It was so much like Ruby; Qrow tried to hide his smile. “Yesssssss!”

“All right,” Clover laughed. “Let’s go. Qrow, you sure you don’t want to go swimming?”

“There is absolutely nothing you could do to get me in that water,” Qrow said.

Clover waggled his eyebrows at him. He snorted.

“What about you, don’t you need to wait fifteen minutes?” he asked.

Clover gave him a sheepish grin. “Would it surprise you if I said I’ve never had a sunburn in my entire life?”

Qrow glared.

Clover laughed, pecking him on the cheek before leading Bianca to the water. “Thanks for the rub-down, but I have it on good authority that I would look hot with freckles. That was nice, though. We should do it again sometime.”

He consoled himself by staring at Clover’s ass as he ran down the beach with Bianca.

Qrow sat back in his beach chair, closing his eyes and letting the sound of the ocean lull him into a light nap. Gods, this was the life. He could definitely get used to this. Fuck Atlas and its frigid tundra. Or _oh_ , to be in Patch, on a warm summer day. Him and Clover, and their…

The sound of little girl laughter roused him from his sleep. He opened his eyes to see Clover, with his niece hooked under one arm, carrying her like a sack of potatoes while she giggled madly.

“Delivery!” he said, depositing her on their beach blanket. “One mermaid, fresh.”

“I don’t think I ordered this,” Qrow deadpanned, giving them an unimpressed look. He tossed Bianca’s pink pony-printed towel to Clover, who caught it neatly.

“You can’t _eat_ a mermaid,” Bianca informed them, wriggling as Clover dried her off.

“Watch me,” Clover said, miming chowing down on Bianca’s head. More shrieks of laughter. Then tickling, then even more laughter. Qrow had a sudden ache in his heart, watching the whole scene. A longing for the days when his nieces were so small and innocent. And a yearning for the future, when he and Clover could have…they could have—

He was jolted out of his thoughts by a damp, vaguely sandy towel hitting him in the face. He squawked, pulling it off, only to see Clover giving him a cheeky look.

“You with me, bird brain?” he asked. He looked like some kind of ocean god, standing there with his hair wet and curling from the salt water. His swim trunks clung to his body, threatening to cause some kind of public scene. Especially with the faint marks trailing down his neck from their, uh…cooking experiment yesterday.

Qrow just stared.

Clover laughed, tugging on a tank top. It didn’t help _much_ , but at least Qrow could form sentences now.

“I hate the beach,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Uncle Qrow, you have to play spikeball with us!” Bianca said. She was crouched over some kind of low hoop that was suspended horizontally over the sand, and was stretching a net over the surface. 

“Uh,” he said, reluctant to leave his comfortable chair. “I’ll just watch you guys, okay?”

“Nuh-uh,” Clover said, pulling him up. “This is an Ebi family staple. You’ve gotta learn to play sometime.”

Qrow groaned, as Clover dragged him away from their umbrella and into the _sun_. The light burned his eyes, and he had to squint to see. He engaged his aura just to be safe.

Clover picked up a bright yellow ball, about hand-sized, and tossed it in the air.

“All right, Beebs, ready to have your butt kicked?” he said, catching the ball with a flourish.

She crossed her arms. “I think I’ll kick _your_ butt, Uncle Clover.”

“I think I’ll kick both of your butts,” Qrow said. “Uh…how do you play?”

The rules were both simple and chaotic. One person would serve the ball into the low net, causing it to bounce up. Then the other two had three chances to return it to the net, all while keeping the ball off the sand. Qrow could have grasped it with just two people, but the Ebi rules were some kind of rotating team system where Qrow was never quite sure when it was his turn, who he was playing with, or who was supposed to serve. There were no designated sides to the net, everyone ran around like crazy, and the points made zero sense.

But the actual game part, he was decent at. It was good exercise, scrambling to get his hand under the ball to tap it into the air, then setting it up so he could “spike” it back into the net. It would actually be pretty fun to play with the girls, if they ever got the chance. Clover went easy on them, having played this with his cousins since childhood. It was Bianca who provided the chaos.

The eight-year-old roared like a Beowolf as she spiked the ball into the net with her palm. It bounced violently and soared right between him and Clover, flying wild and rolling down the beach with surprising force.

“Got it,” Clover said, running off in pursuit. Which was good, because Qrow drew the line at chasing balls.

Bianca put her hands over her mouth. “Oops,” she said, giving him that guilty-kid-but-not-really look. He’d seen it on Yang about a million times. He’d bet a hundred lien that she was hiding a grin behind her fingers.

He chuckled, ruffling her hair. “You’ve got a good arm there, kid. Try to rein it in, though, for your Uncle’s sake?”

She nodded, peering past him.

“Does Uncle Clover know that man?”

Qrow turned, scanning the crowds for Clover. There was a small group a ways down the beach, all guys around Clover’s age, maybe a bit older. Three of them were lounging in the sand, drinking beers and laughing. But one, a tall red-haired guy, was standing and chatting up Clover. Their ball was held casually in his hand. The omega was listening politely to whatever he was saying, but his posture was stiff, wary. Like he was anticipating a fight.

“Stay here for a sec, okay?” He said. Bianca tilted her head at him. “I’m serious, don’t move from this spot.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding.

He strode over to the little group, scowling. As he drew closer he could smell the alphas clear as day. The redhead with their ball was big and bulky, but _obviously_ not a huntsman. The muscles were all for show.

It took a decent amount of self-control to not just barge in there and growl out _‘Is this guy bothering you?’_ But he made himself take it easy. He kept his scent as neutral as possible. As he approached, he could hear their conversation.

“…should’ve known it was you, I swear I could smell you halfway down the beach. Going all natural now, huh? Fuck, that’s sexy.”

“Rey, please, I’m here with my niece and—Qrow!”

Clover gave him a surprised look, while the alpha frowned in annoyance. Qrow stood at Clover’s side, assessing the situation.

“Everything okay here?” he asked.

The alpha put up a dismissive hand. “Do you mind, bud? We’re having a conversation.”

“Actually, we were just saying goodbye,” Clover said, grabbing Qrow’s hand. “Reynard, this is my boyfriend. Qrow. Qrow, this is Reynard. An…old friend.”

Reynard, the alpha, looked him up and down. Some of his friends chortled, behind him. “Boyfriend, huh? I guess someone finally made an honest omega out of you. Though…” he gave Clover’s neck a significant look, a sly grin on his face. “…not _too_ honest, thankfully.”

Clover didn’t react to that, so he tried not to, either.

“Sure,” Qrow ground out. “Anyway, nice to meet you.”

It was not nice to meet him.

Clover held his hand out for their ball. “Like I said, we’re here with my niece, so we’ll have to catch up some other time.”

Reynard tossed it to Qrow instead. He caught it with his free hand, as the alpha smirked.

“Sure, I’d love to _catch_ up,” he said, giving Clover an appreciative leer. “Good to meet you too, Qrow. You’re a lucky guy to get with Clover, I can say that from experience. Tell me, does he still make that cute little noise when you—“

Qrow _growled._

Well…so much for neutrality.

It wasn’t the most intimidating alpha display he’d ever made, just a little rumble in his throat and a faint baring of teeth. Add in a slight step forward, and it was just a hint of a threat. It was nowhere near his reaction to _Tyrian_ , but it got the point across.

It was also a mistake. Clover’s hand tightened around his, yanking him back. He felt instant regret.

Reynard just laughed, hands up. “All right, I get it, you’re not into sharing. The offer still stands, Clover.”

“I’ll pass,” Clover said, all false charm. “See you around.”

Clover pulled him back to their beach blanket without a word.

“Cloves, I’m—“

“You know I _had_ that, right?”

“I...yes.”

“And you know I don’t need you to protect me?”

“I know. I just—“

“Then why did you do it?”

How to explain, when he’d just acted like a total knothead, that it wasn’t Clover’s _dynamic_ that made him want to step in–it was the fact that Qrow was head over heels, deeply, madly, butt-crazy in _love_ with him. Of _course_ , Clover could fight his own battles. So could Yang, or Ruby, or any of the kids, or _Tai,_ for that matter. But if some jerk came around talking about any of them like they were a piece of _meat_ , it would drive him just as insane.

“I…I love you?”

Good one, Branwen.

“You think that’s—never mind, we’ll deal with it later,” Clover said, voice tight. He pasted on a smile as they approached Bianca, releasing Qrow’s hand. “Bibi, it’s gonna start getting cold soon. I think it’s time to head back.”

Bianca pouted. “Do we have to? I’m not cold.”

Clover rubbed her shoulders. “Me neither, Beebs, but Qrow has a very delicate constitution.”

He supposed he deserved that.

“Tell you what, though,” Clover offered, “How about we stop for ice cream on the way home?”

She considered this, then nodded. “Deal.”

Clover stuck out his hand, and they shook on it. “Pleasure doing business with you. Just don’t tell your Dad I spoiled your appetite, kay?”

Clover hardly looked at him as they packed up and left. There was an undercurrent of tension in every movement. Qrow stayed quiet, the whole way home.

Thinking about what he’d done.

* * *

Everything he knew about being an alpha, he learned from Summer Rose.

There were other alphas in the tribe, but the hierarchy was…scattered. Disjointed. Alphas were valuable fighters, but their emotions made them a liability. Betas were the leaders, the ones smart enough to take advantage of society’s cracks. Omegas were not worth the trouble. And Qrow, with his unfortunate semblance, was the lowest of the low. Any strength his dynamic might have afforded him was overruled by his inherent weakness: his bad luck. Raven tried to help him, but she was blessed everywhere he was cursed.

Coming to Beacon, being put on a team with an alpha female leader and an _omega_ brawler, Qrow…hadn’t honestly known what to expect. The ray of sunshine that was Summer Rose was certainly not it. He and Raven had _thought_ they knew about dynamics. But Summer, with her selfless caretaking, and Tai, with his independent spirit, shattered every stereotype.

So it was Summer, when he was at his worst and most monstrous, who took him out back and told him he couldn’t act like such a gods-damned knothead if they were going to be friends.

“Have you, like, _ever_ been around an omega before?” she scolded him, hands on her hips.

Qrow was suspiciously silent, nursing his sore knuckles as he sat on the ground behind the dining hall. He’d be feeling that for a while. And then Tai had the audacity to tell him his _form_ was bad.

“I’ve…seen them,” Qrow said.

“Like in the movies?” Summer taunted.

“No,” Qrow shot back. Joke’s on her, he’d never _been_ to the movies.

“Okay,” Summer said. “You want to tell me what part of Tai you think is incapable of defending himself?”

“Like…which body parts?” he asked, genuinely confused. It would probably be below the belt, right?

Summer rolled her eyes, thwacking him on the back of the head. A sensation he’d soon become…very accustomed to.

“Look…we have a responsibility, as alphas. The world values us more.”

“No one’s ever valued me all that high, sorry.” Qrow said, bitterly.

“Maybe where you come from,” Summer said, gentle. “But the world is bigger now.”

Those words stuck with him, years later. _The world is bigger now._ For so long his world had been so _small_ , just the tribe. It felt like Summer was offering up a whole new life, free from all the rules he’d grown up with. A world where people cared about him. And where his personal issues didn’t necessarily match up with systemic ones. A _responsibility._

One he was fucking up.

Qrow let out a breath. “I probably shouldn’t have stepped in, I guess.”

“No,” Summer said. “You shouldn’t. He had it.”

Qrow felt a wash of shame. This was why alphas were a liability; they couldn’t control themselves. This was why Raven was the strong one. She was _obviously_ attracted to Tai; he _knew_ her. But not only had she not made a move, she hadn’t even lifted a finger.

“I just…that guy was so…Tai shouldn’t have to…” he snarled, in frustration. Gods, it was so _impossible_ to talk, sometimes. He’d never had to talk about his fucking _emotions,_ growing up. He didn’t see why he had to start now.

“I couldn’t help it,” he finally muttered. “I just got so _angry._ ”

“You _can_ help it,” Summer said. “And you should. You’re not some caveman, you’re a Huntsman-in-training. If you can control yourself in combat, you can figure out how to do it in your relationships.”

That was the thing, wasn’t it? Qrow had _relationships_ now. People who counted on him, who cared about him. Just…because. Sometimes he and Raven just looked to each other, terrified, pulled in by the strange feeling of hope. Of _family_.

He sighed. “How pissed do you think Tai is?”

“Oh, him?” Summer said, with a grin. “He thought it was hilarious. _I’m_ the one who was mad at you.”

Qrow sputtered. “ _What?!_ You…Tai…”

Summer patted him on the shoulder. “Oh, I think he was a little annoyed, but you should’ve seen yourself, right after. You were so pathetic! And you’d been so puffed up just before!”

“This is a great pep talk,” Qrow said, dryly. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, okay? It just makes me mad when people treat him shitty.”

A great statement. Just a bare step up from caveman.

“Me, too.” Summer said, her jaw clenched tight. “It’s infuriating.”

“But you didn’t do _anything!”_ Qrow said, incredulous.

Summer shook her head. “Because it’s not about how _I_ feel. It’s about supporting your friends, in the way that _they_ need. Tai has his own way of handling it. He doesn’t need us to fight his battles, but I bet he’s glad for our support.”

Qrow peered down at her. “So what would you have done, if it looked like it was getting out of hand with that guy?”

“I would have sliced him open from toe to tip,” Summer said, without hesitation. She smiled sweetly. “Just remember to give Tai the first crack, next time. Because there _will_ be a next time.”

A deeper fear wormed its way through his gut. He was almost about to drop it, but…it was so hard to lie to Summer. She had a magic quality about her.

“What if…” Qrow sighed, looking up into the night sky. “What if something bad happens? To any of you. I can’t…what if it hurts?”

They had lodged in his heart. Not just Raven. Summer, Tai. His _team_.

“…then it hurts,” Summer replied, simply.

* * *

Back at the Ebi-Su house, things were their usual chaos. Qrow hosed off Bianca’s toys and threw their towels in the laundry while Clover got her settled with a bath. When he came back into the house Cedar was lying on the couch, half-watching a tennis match. A baby monitor was lying on the coffee table.

“Hey,” he said, in an awkward greeting. “Who’s, uh…winning?”

Qrow knew basically nothing about sports. The fact that he even identified it as tennis was an accomplishment.

Cedar looked up, surprised. “Huh? Oh, hey Qrow.” He peered at the screen. “It’s, uh…30-love.”

“…what did you call me?” 

“What?” Cedar blinked.

Clover came in then, damp and a little harried.

“Okay, Bibi’s all cleaned up. She’s just watching cartoons, I think we wore her out. How’s—“

He froze, noticing Qrow. Qrow ducked his head, feeling awful.

“I’m taking a shower,” Clover announced, stalking down the hall.

Cedar watched his cousin’s retreating form, then took in Qrow’s guilty expression. He put a hand to his forehead, sighing deeply as he sat up. “Okay, I’ll bite. What happened? Do I have to hurt you?”

Might as well face the music, he thought.

“We, uh…we ran into one of Clover’s exes, at the beach.”

Cedar narrowed his eyes. “Was it that redheaded bastard? Ray-something?”

“Reynard,” Qrow said. “How did you know?”

“Because he’s like a bad lien—he always comes back around. I hate that guy.” Cedar shook his head, then gave Qrow an appraising look. “All right, you’re off the hook. You could take him, by the way.”

Qrow groaned. “That’s the problem. I acted like an ass.”

“Shrimp’s mad at you, huh?” Cedar said, sympathetically. “Did you punch the guy?”

“What? No.”

Sure, he got a little aggressive, but he wasn’t about to attack a defenseless man out of nowhere. Cedar looked surprised. He was suddenly reminded of his introduction to the fiery beta.

“Did you, uh…?”

“Oh, like ten years ago,” Cedar said. “Almost broke my hand on his thick skull.”

“…right.”

Qrow was slowly realizing that it wasn’t so much that Cedar disliked him specifically, but that Cedar disliked anyone who so much as laid a finger on his precious cousin. He and Tai would probably get along swimmingly.

Cedar yawned, scratching at his newly-grown stubble. “If you didn’t punch him, then you’re fine. It’ll blow over.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he muttered. Clover was probably thinking of a nice way to dump him.

“Look, Qrow,” Cedar said, leaning forward. “Shrimp’s never been in a real relationship. He’s probably just scared. And I’m guessing that’s something you two have in common.”

That…wasn’t wrong. There had been flings, even some long-standing hookups. But no one else had wormed their way into his heart the way Clover had. Even before everything came to a head in Atlas, Qrow was beyond saving. He just hadn’t realized it yet. He used to think of his life as borrowed time, just trying to help the people he cared about so they could have it better than him. Even if that meant getting out of the way. Now when he looked at Clover, he could actually imagine a future. One where he, Qrow, was actually happy.

He had no idea what to do about it.

“You could say that, yeah.”

Cedar nodded. “I’m not gonna pretend there aren’t some unique challenges that the two of you face. But fundamentally, it’s about communication. Just go talk it out.”

He frowned. “Why are you helping me? I thought you’d be digging a shallow grave by now.”

“Well, I haven’t slept for two weeks,” Cedar said, with a shrug. “Also, my back hurts. Don’t tell Shrimp that.”

Qrow huffed out a laugh. Cedar gave him a wry smile of his own.

“I know we had a bit of a rough start, but I don’t hate you. Sure, you’re an alpha. And an alcoholic. You snuck onto my ship. You canoodle with my cousin in my own house. You yelled at me and my wife. You’re in your forties yet you somehow mostly hang out with teenagers. Who _stole_ a completely _different_ ship, which despite what Cordo and those idiots in tactical think, is _not_ a trivial matter, and if they would just put someone with _half a brain_ in charge of command out here, they would…what was I talking about?”

“How you… _don’t_ hate me?” he said. He probably shouldn’t have brought it up. Cedar didn’t even know about the whole ‘raised by bandits, sent to Beacon to kill Huntsmen’ angle.

“Oh,” Cedar said, bleary-eyed. “Well, you make Shrimp happy, blah blah blah.”

He laid back down on the couch, baby monitor placed next to his head, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. “Besides, I fucking hate that guy. Whatever you did he probably deserved. Go do your groveling, I gotta take a nap while I still can. Don’t wake my kid up with your...”

Cedar waved his hand in a vague gesture. Five seconds later, he was snoring.

As Qrow retired to the bedroom, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d somehow been adopted by these crazy people.

* * *

The shower had turned off in their bathroom, but Clover was still inside. The door was propped open to let the steam out, and the soft light from inside cast the bedroom in a warm glow.

“Just me, Cloves,” he said, softly, as a warning. “Let me know if…if you don’t wanna talk to me. I can go.”

Qrow sat on the floor, not wanting to get any residual sand on the bed. And then he waited.

There was no word from the bathroom. No sound at all. After ten minutes he stood, concerned.

“Cloves?” he said, knocking gently on the door. “You okay?”

Clover sounded distracted, when he replied. Far off.

“Yeah…yeah.”

“Can I come in?”

Clover didn’t answer for a long time. Just as he was about to turn and go, Clover replied.

“Yeah.”

Qrow pushed the door open, gently. Clover had wiped the steam from the mirror and was standing in front of it, peering at his reflection, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“…Cloves?”

“I was looking for freckles,” Clover said, sighing. “Haven’t found any yet. Just a few new wrinkles.”

He tapped at the corner of his eye, which tended to crinkle up when he smiled. “These ones, I’ve had for a while. But here,” he traced the faint lines under his eye. “I don’t think that was there last year. And here, too.”

Clover tapped between his brows, where a little wrinkle set in when he was worried. The grooves formed easily, unless his face was completely slack. He sighed. “Started looking for something I had when I was a kid, then just noticed how old I’ve gotten.”

“Cloves, you’re gonna be thirty-five,” Qrow said, letting out a soft huff. “Talk to me when you hit forty.”

Clover let his hand fall from his face, a sad expression setting in. “I think…I think James said something like that to me, once.”

Qrow reeled back like he’d been slapped. “…what?”

If Clover noticed his distress, he didn’t comment. He was still looking at his reflection in the mirror, lost in thought. “At my father’s funeral. This was…not long after he found out about me. I called him ‘sir,’ and he reminded me to…to call him James off the clock. I made a joke about old habits dying hard, and he said to talk to him about old habits when I was his age.”

He took in a shuddering breath, his voice taking on a note of bitterness. “You know, we had the reception at his place.”

Qrow blinked. “Really?”

“We...my dad didn’t have _friends_ , but he was a Colonel,” Clover said. “James’s place was bigger and nicer. So he offered it up. My family was in that apartment. _Bianca_ was there.”

Clover turned to him, eyes mournful. “We stood on the balcony, James and I. And we talked. And I…I thought I was just so in love with him.”

If Qrow hadn’t felt lower than dirt before, he definitely did now.

He and James had always had a…complicated relationship. They very rarely agreed on anything, and yet…they’d known each other so long that he had, despite himself, counted James as a friend. Though he’d worried about the man when they were in Atlas, he hadn’t really anticipated the lengths he would go to once Salem started making plays.

The paranoia. The fear. The _obsession._ All of James’s worst traits, amplified beyond comprehension.

Qrow still didn’t understand it.

Clover sniffled, tears pooling in his eyes. “I…forgot about that until now. That I’d been there before.”

He felt like his heart would break from the sight. “Oh, Cloves…”

Clover came to him, pressing his cheek to Qrow’s and tugging his arms around him. Qrow obliged, wrapping the omega in a hug. Gods, he…how could Clover even want to _touch_ him, after everything he’d been through. Qrow fought off his own tears, wracked with guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Cloves,” he said. “For today. For everything. I…there was no excuse. I should have let you handle it, but instead I freaked out and I messed up. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He could feel Clover’s hands bunch in the back of his shirt. “I know. I forgive you. It’s just…Qrow, I can’t take you being jealous right now. I…I _really can’t_.”

Clover let out one gut-wrenching shudder, leaning into him.

“I know. I…I get it,” Qrow said, rubbing the omega’s back. He took a deep breath, to steel himself. “I can…I’ll go if you need me to, okay? If you need a break. Maybe I can stay with Saph and Terra for a bit. Or I’ll get a hotel, or…hell, I’ve slept in trees before. I can…”

Clover pulled back, his expression fraught. Qrow trailed off.

“You…you want to leave?”

Qrow shook his head. “Of course I don’t, I’m fucking crazy about you. But that’s…that’s exactly it. I don’t want to be that guy, who pushes you into something. Otherwise, what makes me any better than those other jerks?”

“Qrow,” Clover said, cupping his face in his hands. “We could _die._ At any time. As soon as we get the word from Winter, this whole thing is about to get so incredibly dangerous for both of us. So…yes, you scared me today. And I know I’m not…I’m not out the other side yet, with everything that happened. But there is _absolutely no way_ I am letting you out of my sight for a single second more than I have to.”

Clover reached up, brushing his hair back. Teal eyes met his, earnest and full of affection.

“And you _are_ different. You actually _care_ if I want to be with you. Look, I know Reynard is…not subtle. But he served a purpose in my life, and he never asked anything more of me. And James…he didn’t even _notice_ that he broke my heart, back then. And then later, he just _assumed_ it would still be there beating for him when he was ready.”

He sniffled again, tears falling from his bright eyes. “I don’t want space, and I don’t want some other alpha. I want you. You’re not at the top of the list by default, Qrow. You _are_ the list.”

Qrow felt overwhelmed by emotion.

“Cloves…” he said, a few tears escaping his own eyes. Clover made a soft noise, wrapping strong arms around him and holding him close. They stayed like that a long while, locked in a tight embrace. He could feel Clover’s heart beating in time with his own.

“Shit,” Qrow said, wiping his face and blowing his nose on his shirt. “I could probably use a shower myself.”

He suddenly became aware that Clover had only been wearing a towel this whole time. He flushed slightly. Clover looked down, laughing as he came to the same conclusion.

“Here,” Clover said. “Mind if I join you, now that I have sand all over me again?”

“It’s not _all over,_ ” he protested, with a roll of his eyes. There were definitely a few grains clinging to Clover’s tanned chest, though. He brushed them off gently, causing Clover to give him a dark look.

“Less talking, more getting undressed,” Clover instructed, lifting the hem of his t-shirt. Qrow obligingly lifted his arms so the other man could pull the shirt off, then he shimmied out of his shorts while Clover turned on the shower.

Qrow kicked his clothes to the side, then looked up to find Clover giving him an appraising eye. The omega dropped his towel, then held out a hand in invitation. Qrow followed.

He’d follow Clover just about anywhere.

Despite the intimacy of the space, Clover had an eye to business. He lathered up Qrow’s hair with gentle efficiency, working his fingers into Qrow’s scalp and massaging the suds until the last of the sand was out. He couldn’t help but groan at the feeling of being pampered like this.

“You just take any excuse to rub me down, don’t you?” he said, as Clover washed his back.

“Maybe if you didn’t get so fucking dirty,” Clover murmured. He went a little lower. Qrow sucked in a breath.

By the time they were both free of any ocean debris, they were both half-hard and flushed from the heat of the spray. After a cursory pass with a towel, Clover was urging him onto the bed, eagerly straddling his hips.

He let Clover take the lead. It seemed…important. Plus Clover was _magnificent_ when he got like this, both completely in control and utterly wanton. Soon Qrow was gasping from the feel of Clover’s deft hands, a calloused palm wrapping around both of their cocks. Clover grabbed his wrist with his other hand, directing him where he wanted it to go.

He teased Clover’s slick entrance with his fingertip. “Hmm, is this what you want?”

“No,” Clover said, glaring. “I want to have your cock in me, and I _need you_ to facilitate that as soon as possible.”

Qrow didn’t have to be told twice. He went for two fingers straight out, stretching the tight passage. Clover moaned, arching his back. His thumb caressed the sensitive tip of Qrow’s cock, and he jerked his hips in pleasure. Gods, this was…this might not last long.

Clover apparently agreed. When he was three fingers in and zeroed in on Clover’s sweet spot, the omega abruptly tugged on his wrist. “Now. I’m ready.”

He withdrew his fingers, but before he could do anything Clover pulled his hand to his mouth. Qrow stared, in awe, as the omega licked the juices from him, taking each finger in the wet heat of his mouth before pulling off with a slick pop.

“Qrow, do you trust me?” he said, his voice low. He still held Qrow’s hand.

He nodded. “Yeah. Yes. Fuck, yes.”

A smile tugged at Clover’s lips. “Once was enough, but good to hear. Give me your other hand.”

Qrow obliged. Clover kissed the knuckles of each hand, in a lewd repeat of his gesture during the card game. And then he took both of Qrow’s wrists, pulling them up above his head. “Hands up here, okay? I’m gonna do everything.”

Fuck, okay. Qrow could get with this. He nodded.

“I’m not gonna hold you down, you have to stay there,” Clover cautioned. “Can you do that for me, Qrow?”

He nodded again, speechless. He’d never felt Clover’s gaze so intently before. Gods, he was so far gone. He’d probably lick Clover’s boots and like it, if the omega asked nicely.

“Okay,” Clover said. “Good.”

And then he got to work.

Now that he was laid out like a buffet, Clover apparently decided he wanted to savor the meal. He kissed his way down Qrow’s body, paying special attention to Qrow’s nipples. He circled his tongue around the outside, then drew each hardened nub into his mouth, licking and teasing until Qrow felt dizzy from the stimulation.

And then lower, down the smattering of dark hair, until he was _almost_ where Qrow longed for him. But Clover only moved to the side, to lick and bite at Qrow’s inner thigh. He paused there, looking up. Qrow almost whimpered, at the sight.

Without warning, Clover licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock. He gasped, his cock twitching at the attention. Clover held his hips down as he lazily mouthed at the head, pinning him in place.

“Oh, so _now_ you want to go slow?” he panted, already feeling wrecked.

“Didn’t you say something about my impulse control?” Clover said, innocently. He shivered at the breath caressing the wet tip of his cock. “I think it’s pretty good.”

“Cloves… _please…”_

Clover had the audacity to _wink_ at him, as he sat back and stroked himself lazily. “I can’t make this too easy for you, can I?”

Qrow didn’t think it could be any harder. In any sense of the word.

The omega had pity on him, positioning himself above Qrow’s cock. Carefully, he guided Qrow’s length to his slick hole. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, he sunk down.

It was like coming home. Clover was so fucking _hot_ and _tight_ around him, it was almost too much. Clover paused when he was fully seated, his ass flush against Qrow’s body.

“ _Fuck,”_ he groaned. “Fuck, Lucky Charm, that’s…you’re…”

“Yeah,” Clover said, biting his lip. He made an experimental movement, just a shallow roll of his hips. Qrow nearly barked like a dog.

Another slow movement had him groaning, tossing his head back. Clover made a noise of disapproval, leaning in and gently tipping his chin down.

“Uh-uh,” he said. “Eyes on me.”

Qrow obeyed, drawing his gaze from the ceiling to Clover’s teal eyes. The omega hummed, leaning back and lifting himself up again. He set a slow rhythm, working himself up and down on Qrow’s cock. It was ecstasy and agony, watching those powerful thighs clench in exertion. Feeling Clover’s slick drip out from where their bodies were joined, filling the air with an intoxicating scent. And having to lie back and just take whatever Clover deigned to give him like the lovesick sap he was.

Clover reached back, bracing his hands on Qrow’s legs. The change in angle had the other man moaning openly, and he started riding him faster, harder. Every time he descended there was an obscene slap of their bodies coming together.

“Fuck, _Clover,”_ he groaned. “I could…I could watch you all day, you look so fucking hot like that.”

It was like something out of a fantasy, Clover’s tan skin awash in a fine sheen of sweat. He could see every muscle in the omega’s lean body straining. Could see his cock disappearing over and over into that tight hole. His hands twitched above his head, _yearning_ to touch. He clenched them into fists to keep control.

“ _Yes_ ,” Clover hissed, dropping down on his cock _hard_. “That’s…fuck…keep talking to me. I fucking love your voice. Tell me what you want to do, if you could touch me.”

“I…” Qrow panted, his voice low and ragged. “You’re so fucking tight, you feel so good. I wanna… _fuck_ …wanna take your cock in my hand, stroke you until you’re begging for it. Until you can’t take it anymore, and you fucking spill your come all over me.”

“Are you gonna knot me?” Clover said, bearing down and rolling his hips until they both saw stars.

It was getting harder to think. “Not… _fuck…_ not yet. First I… _fucking hell,_ Clover…!”

The omega lifted his hips, so that Qrow nearly slipped out, then dropped down in one swift motion until he was buried to the hilt. Clover paused on top of him, catching his breath while Qrow tried desperately not to come.

“Don’t you mean, knot _yes_?” Clover teased. Sweat dripped from his brow onto Qrow’s chest.

He groaned. Only Clover would make a pun about knotting while Qrow was _inside him_.

“Hey,” Clover said, pinching his thigh. “Keep talking. I want to see if this story has a happy ending.”

_Bossy._

Qrow couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t a turn-on. Even with the jokes.

“First, I want to…want to lick you clean, have the taste of you in my mouth.” Qrow said, with some difficulty. Clover started moving again, agonizing little thrusts and rolls of his hips. “Tease you ‘till you’re hard again. Until you’re dripping wet all over me. Then I would take that perfect fucking ass in my hands and bounce you on my cock until you screamed. Give it to you hard and fast the way you like it.”

His speech was interrupted with a string of filthy moans from Clover, as the omega picked up the pace. “I… _yes, Qrow_ …yes that’s…fuck, I want that. Maybe I… _ohhhhh_ …maybe I’ll have to…have to let you…”

Qrow watched, entranced, as Clover writhed on his cock. Breath coming in ragged gasps as he took his pleasure. Clover’s hand reaching down to pump his own member. All the while, his eyes trained solely on Qrow’s face.

It became increasingly difficult to restrain himself. To walk the line between wanting to grip Clover’s hips and thrust up into that tight heat with all his power, or to push Clover away to keep from coming too soon. He groaned, feeling his knot start to form.

“ _Clover_ , I’m… _fuck…”_

“It’s okay, baby, you’ve been so good,” Clover panted. He leaned down, capturing Qrow’s mouth in a sloppy kiss, then braced himself on one elbow. “I want you to come now, okay? I want to… _ahhh,_ fuck _…_ I want to feel you come in me _._ Just like you’re gonna when you…when we…when I ask you to _put a fucking baby in me.”_

With his other arm, he reached down to Qrow’s hip, urging him on. He almost sobbed from the feeling of release, snapping his hips up to meet Clover’s ass. Clover met him at every push, lifting himself up and letting his hips fall down onto Qrow’s cock with brutal swiftness. Gods, it was too much, it all felt so _amazing_. It wasn’t long before he came with a shout, his whole body tensing as Clover ground down on his knot, slipping in and locking them in place as Qrow spilled his seed.

Clover panted, on top of him, pausing for just a moment before reaching down to stroke himself. He bit his lip as he tipped over the edge, his hand pumping erratically, absolutely _gorgeous_ , then finally came with a soft mewl of ecstasy. Qrow groaned, feeling Clover clench around him, drawing out another aftershock of pleasure.

Clover finally collapsed on top of him, breathless. “You…you can move now. You can touch me. Please.”

He hadn’t realized just how tense his arms were until he moved them. He ran his hands over the omega’s shoulders, down his back, over the round globes of his ass and then down to his quivering thighs. Clover sighed at the touch. He wrapped the other man in a desperate embrace, his arms like jelly. Of all the times they’d knotted, he’d never felt quite this _close._ “Fuck, Cloves…” he panted, still catching his breath.

Clover tilted his head up, cupping Qrow’s face as he kissed him. It was slow and sweet, Clover drinking in his taste like a fine wine. He felt like he could melt into the mattress, letting this perfect man savor him forever. His eyes drifted shut as he floated through the afterglow, feeling more content than maybe any other time in his life.

Something wet trickled onto his cheek.

“ _I love you,”_ Clover whispered, into his lips.

Qrow opened his eyes. Clover’s were shut. Tears snuck out the edges, down the creases of his laugh lines, to drop harmlessly onto Qrow’s skin.

“Clover…” he started, worry and panic rising in him.

“No, I…” Clover pressed a hand to his chest, directly over his heart. His palm curled in, like he could caress Qrow’s soul through his skin. “I’m not sad, really. The opposite. I…I just…”

Clover opened his eyes. The confidence and command had dissipated, and now there was only Clover, open and vulnerable. His teal eyes shone as he studied Qrow’s face.

“I just…I really think I love you.”

His heart raced. “What?”

“I _love_ you, you stupid jerk, and I need you to get your head out of your ass and love yourself as much as I do.”

The mind-blowing orgasm he’d just had was interfering with his ability to process all of that. Not to mention that they were still knotted together. He focused in on the first part.

“Was this…” he paused, frowning. “Was this a test?”

Clover just wanted to see if he could control himself, right? And he’d…passed?

“No,” Clover said, wiping the tears from his face with a sniffle. “It was a confirmation.”

“Cloves,” he said. He stroked Clover’s back, felt the tremble in his body. “You know you don’t have to…I meant what I said. You don’t have to say it back.”

How could Clover _love_ him, when he kept acting like an ass? Sure, he’d redeemed himself for now, but what about the next time? What about—

“It was the lasagna,” Clover said. A small smile played at his lips.

Qrow’s mouth fell open. Now he was _really_ confused.

“You let me teach you, even though you were scared,” Clover said. He leaned in, kissing Qrow’s cheek. “You trusted me to help you.” Another kiss, to his jaw. “You took the time to learn about something I care about. Qrow you…you came to _Argus_ for me, you live with my family, you…you’re strong but you’re gentle, and you care so, so much about everyone. I thought maybe it was just hormones, seeing you with Rosemary. Maybe I was just…baby crazy, I guess. But it was the fucking _lasagna_ that did it.”

“Clover…”

Clover kissed him then. Deeper, more intense, Clover’s tongue caressing his in a desperate tangle. His whole body pressed against Qrow, around him, like they could become one being if they just touched enough. The now-familiar flutter of love and affection swelled inside of him, all-encompassing, stronger than ever.

“I love you,” Clover whispered, against his lips. “Ever since I realized, it’s all I can think about. and I just can’t let you go another second without knowing that it’s true.”

“I love you, too.” he choked out.

Fuck, now _he_ was crying. Clover kissed his tears away, whispering words of affection.

“I love you,” Clover repeated.

He turned his face away, scrubbing at his eyes. “ _Stop,_ gods.”

“Mmm-mmm. Not a chance.”

Clover just wiggled on top of him, settling into a comfier position. His breath caught as he felt the omega clench around his knot. “You sure picked a time to tell me this, Lucky Charm,” he said with a huff.

“Now you can’t get away from me,” Clover murmured. He could hear the exhaustion starting to set in, in his boyfriend’s voice. His _lover’s_ voice. “You have to just lie here and take it.”

“Tch,” he snorted. “Bossy.”

“You love it.”

Qrow ran a hand through Clover’s messy hair. It was ragingly curly from his shower, then their extended coupling. The chestnut locks wrapped around his fingers, pulling him in. Begging to be preened. Demanding the scratch of Qrow’s fingers against that warm scalp, petting the omega until he sighed in blissful contentment.

“…yeah, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clover: *stubbornly crossing his arms* Yes, I know I realized I love Qrow 10k ago, but I'm not _saying_ it until I have an orgasm.  
> Qrow: The same thing happened last week when I asked you what movie you wanted to watch.  
> Clover: ...  
> Qrow: ...  
> Clover: Take your pants off.


End file.
